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PSYCHOLOGY 

OF  THE 

NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 


PSYCHOLOGY 

OF  THE 

NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 


BY 
HENRY  HERBERT  GODDARD,  A.M.,  Pn  D. 

Director  Ohio  Bureau  of  Juvenile  Research,  formerly 
Director  Vineland  Laboratory,  author  of  "Kallikak 
Family,"  "Feeble  Mindedness :  its  Causes  and  Con- 
sequences," "The  Criminal  Imbecile,"  "School  Train- 
ing of  Defective  Children." 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 
1919 


COPTBIGHT,    1919 

BT  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY,  INC. 


PJUHTBD  IN  T7.8.A. 


TO 
THE  MEMORY 

OF 
ALFRED  BINET 


PEEFACE 

THE  writer  was  once  asked  in  what  work  he  was  engaged. 
When  he  replied,  "  Psychology, "  he  was  met  by  the  re- 
mark, "Do  you  believe  in  that  stuff?  I  used  to,  but  I  be- 
came convinced  that  it  was  all  a  f  ake. "  It  turned  out  that 
to  this  man  psychology  meant  hypnotism. 

This  is  a  fair  illustration  of  one  of  the  many  different 
connotations  the  term  psychology  has  in  the  popular 
mind.  It  is  unfortunate  that  a  science  of  such  funda- 
mental importance  for  human  welfare  should  be  so  little 
understood. 

Psychology  is  the  science  of  mind;  and  mind  deter- 
mines human  conduct.  It  would  seem  therefore  highly 
desirable  that  the  science  of  mind  should  be  so  formu- 
lated as  to  contribute  to  useful  behaviour. 

Geology  is  of  value  to  civilization  in  that  it  enables 
man  not  only  to  understand  the  earth's  history  but  also  to 
build,  to  mine,  to  cultivate  it  intelligently,  in  short  to  use 
the  earth  efficiently. 

Zoology  enables  us  to  know  the  nature  of  animals  and 
to  use  them  for  our  purposes. 

Likewise  psychology  should  enable  us  to  understand 
the  nature  of  mental  processes  and  to  use  that  knowledge 
to  improve  our  behaviour  and  to  increase  our  efficiency. 

Psychology  should  enable  us  to  control  our  conduct 
both  thru  our  understanding  of  ourselves  and  thru 
an  understanding  of  the  motives  and  actions  of  others. 

[vii] 


PREFACE 

That  psychology  has  never  reached  this  plane  of  func- 
tioning needs  no  proof. 

Even  psychologists,  as  a  group,  have  not  impressed 
their  associates  with  any  superior  ability  wisely  to 
direct  their  own  energies  or  to  interpret  the  actions  of 
others.  Indeed  it  is  to  be  feared  that  they  are  more  gen- 
erally considered  as  decidedly  unpractical  theorists, 
1  'highbrows,"  or  even  visionaries.  The  exceptions  are 
probably  considered  exceptional  men  rather  than  excep- 
tional psychologists.  As  for  interpreting  the  actions 
and  motives  of  others  the  case  is  no  better.  Some  of 
those  who  are  considered  our  greatest  psychologists  are 
known  as  the  poorest  judges  of  men. 

No  more  surprising  instance  of  this  can  be  found  than 
that  afforded  by  the  world  war.  For  a  generation  we 
had  thought  the  Germans  were  the  greatest  living  psy- 
chologists. Yet  no  small  cause  of  their  downfall  has  been 
their  inability  to  comprehend  the  minds  of  their  oppon- 
ents. This  is  shown  conclusively  by  their  methods  of 
making  war. 

When  one  asks  the  reason  for  this  failure  of  psychol- 
ogy to  have  practical  value  one  is  apt  to  get  the  answer 
that  psychology  is  a  young  science.  But  psychology  is  as 
old  as  Aristotle  and  Plato.  If  someone  should  reply  that 
psychology  has  until  recently  been  tied  to  philosophy,  he 
only  proves  the  point.  The  fact  that  psychology  re- 
mained for  centuries  enveloped  in  the  mists  of  philosophy 
only  shows  that  it  was  not  virile  enough  to  escape — not 
of  enough  practical  value  to  be  in  demand. 

It  seems  to  us  that  the  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  one 
of  the  facts  of  mind  itself. 

There  seem  to  be  two  types  of  human  beings;  those 

[viii] 


PREFACE 

who  deal  mainly  with  concrete  experiences  and  those  who 
chiefly  use  symbols. 

There  are  mathematicians  who  can  do  wonders  with 
figures  but  are  not  able  to  master  the  calculus. 

Most " captains  of  industry"  have  "started  at  the  bot- 
tom" and  worked  through  all  the  concrete  phases  of  the 
business. 

Undoubtedly  human  development  has  progressed  by 
the  increased  use  of  symbols.  Symbols  are  time  savers 
and  energy  conservers.  Nevertheless  symbols  have  their 
dangers.  One  may  become  so  enamoured  of  the  symbols 
that  he  forgets  what  they  symbolize — he  even  gets  to  the 
point  where  he  cares  nothing  for  the  thing  symbolized. 
He  is  quite  content  with  a  clear  and  logical  array  of  sym- 
bols. Now  this  may  be  very  good  for  those  who  under- 
stand the  symbols  and  enjoy  their  manipulation.  We 
do  not  even  deny  that  it  is  useful  to  pure  science — pro- 
vided it  does  not  become  a  mere  juggling  of  symbols ;  and, 
we  think  we  should  add,  provided  the  handler  of  the  sym- 
bols occasionally  comes  back  to  earth  to  see  what  his  new 
symbols  stand  for. 

But  all  this  symbolizing  takes  the  subject  out  of  reach 
of  that  much  larger  group  who  must  have  the  matter  in 
concrete  form.  Moreover  there  will  inevitably  be  a  group 
who  can  handle  the  symbols  fairly  well  but  who  have  no 
notion  of  their  significance.  Who  does  not  feel  that  the 
average  graduate  from  a  course  in  psychology  is  merely 
a  more  or  less  successful  juggler  with  psychological 
terms ! 

Unfortunately  for  the  practical  use  of  psychology,  our 
text  books  have  generally  been  written  by  those  who  are 
capable  of  handling  the  symbols — with,  we  suspect,  an 

fix] 


occasional  one  written  by  a  mere  juggler  with  words. 

If  our  explanation  is  correct,  it  follows  that  psychol- 
ogy must  eventually  be  written  from  the  practical  stand- 
point, in  terms  that  can  be  appreciated  by  those  who  be- 
long to  the  second  type — those  who  do  not  enjoy  symbols 
to  the  extent  now  used  in  psychological  works. 

If  the  present  book  in  any  degree  paves  the  way  for 
this,  it  will  serve  its  purpose. 

If  the  writer  has  achieved  any  success  in  developing  a 
picture  of  the  mental  processes  in  any  way  more  graphic 
than  that  usually  drawn  it  is  probably  due  to  the  fact  that 
for  twelve  years  he  has  been  in  a  position  where  he  has 
been  compelled  by  the  nature  of  the  work  to  look  for  such 
a  picture. 

In  September,  1906,  we  opened  the  Vineland  laboratory 
for  the  investigation  of  feeble-mindedness.  It  was  not 
a  problem  of  formulating  a  consistent  theory,  nor  yet  of 
applying  existent  theories,  but  rather  of  observing  what 
actually  occurred  in  the  functioning  of  these  minds. 

In  one  particular  the  problem  proved  easy.  These 
feeble  minds  were  so  simple  that  it  was  relatively  easy  to 
follow  the  various  processes.  It  was  not  so  easy  to  work 
it  altogether  into  a  complete  picture.  Indeed  there  are 
many  lacuna  which  it  has  been  necessary  to  bridge  by 
more  or  less  bald  assumptions.  In  making  these  assump- 
tions, however,  we  have  constantly  kept  in  mind  one  rule, 
namely,  never  to  assume  anything  that  was  inconsistent 
with  known  facts. 

If  this  book  has  any  distinguishing  characteristics  we 
believe  they  are  mainly  two :  first,  the  recognition  of  the 
unity  of  mind  which  we  have  tried  to  picture  more  consist- 
ently than  is  usually  done ;  and  second,  in  the  view  of  the 

M 


PREFACE 

emotions  which  so  far  as  we  know  has  never  been  pre- 
sented in  a  text  on  psychology. 

Perhaps  Mosso  's  discovery  made  twenty  years  ago  was 
too  surprising  to  be  readily  accepted  in  psychology  or 
perhaps  its  announcement  hidden  away  in  a  volume  of 
"proceedings"  did  not  get  to  the  attention  of  the  psy- 
chologists. Be  that  as  it  may,  the  recent  work  of  Can- 
non so  completely  corroborates  Mosso,  and  the  view  fits 
so  well  with  our  observations  of  feeble  minds  that  we  can- 
not doubt  its  correctness. 

So  important  is  this  discovery  that  we  have  obtained 
permission  to  reprint  Mosso 's  lecture.  It  will  be  found 
in  the  appendix,  complete  except  for  the  description  of  his 
apparatus  for  which  anyone  interested  must  refer  to  the 
volume  mentioned. 

This  view  like  much  of  the  rest  is  destined  to  be  much 
more  fully  elaborated  as  scientific  experimentation  is 
carried  on. 

It  is  hoped  that  this  book  will  prove  useful  not  only  to 
those  beginning  the  study  of  psychology  in  Normal 
Schools  and  Colleges  but  also  to  teachers  who  read  for 
themselves,  to  parents  who  desire  to  understand  their 
children,  to  the  general  reader  who  finds  he  needs  to  un- 
derstand something  of  psychology  in  order  to  follow  cur- 
rent discussions  in  pedagogy,  sociology,  feeble-minded- 
ness,  vocational  guidance  and  allied  subjects,  and  finally 
to  all  who  wish  to  increase  their  own  efficiency  by  under- 
standing something  of  the  workings  of  their  own  minds 
as  well  as  the  minds  of  their  associates. 

Acknowledgements  are  due  to  so  many  persons  that 
the  task  of  naming  them  all  is  hopeless.  The  book  is  es- 
sentially a  product  of  the  Vineland  laboratory  and  all 

[xi] 


PREFACE 

who  have  helped  in  that  work  have  contributed  to  the  re- 
sult. This  includes  not  only  those  who  have  been  mem- 
bers of  the  laboratory  staff  but  the  Paidological  Staff,  the 
Board  of  Directors,  Officers  of  the  Institution  and  those 
who  have  helped  in  a  financial  way  to  make  the  work  of 
the  laboratory  possible.  My  thanks  and  appreciation  are 
hereby  expressed  to  one  and  all. 

My  debt  to  the  literature  is  only  partly  indicated  by  the 
Bibliography.    The  rest  will  be  evident  to  the  reader. 

HENRY  HERBERT  GODDARD. 

VlNELAND,  AugUSt   1918. 


OH] 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    NERVOUS  SYSTEM 3 

II    THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MIND 19 

III  ARRESTED  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT 52 

IV  SOME  PROPERTIES  INHERENT  IN  THE  NERVOUS  MECH- 

ANISM         69 

V    HIGHER  MENTAL  PROCESSES 90 

VI  HIGHER  MENTAL  PROCESSES — Continued    ....  110 

VII    THE  AFFECTIVE  SIDE  OF  EXPERIENCE 123 

VIII    COMPLEX  EMOTIONS 140 

IX    THOT 158 

X    THOT — Continued 174 

XI    ACTION 193 

XII     HABIT 212 

XIII    TEMPERAMENT 226 

PART  II 

I    APPLICATIONS        233 

II    THE  DETERMINATION  OF  MENTAL  LEVELS   ....  249 

III  INTELLIGENCE  AND  WILL 264 

IV  INTELLIGENCE  AND  EMOTION 270 

V    EXPERIENCE 277 

VI    PEDAGOGICAL  APPLICATIONS 288 

VII    MORAL  TRAINING 310 

APPENDIX 

THE  MECHANISM  OF  THE  EMOTIONS,  BY  PROFESSOR 

ANGELO  Mosso 329 

II 330 

III 334 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 337 

INDEX 343 

[xiii] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


General  view  of  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous  system  .  Facing  4 
Profile  of  a  human  embryo  of  six  weeks  ....  Facing  5 
The  sympathetic  system Facing  6 

Relation  of  the  sympathetic  ganglia  to  the  spinal 

cord  and  spinal  nerves Facing      1 

Profile  view  of  a  human  embryo  of  six  weeks    .      .  Facing      8 

Lateral  views  of  human  embryo  at  four,  five  and 

one  half,  and  six  months Following      8 

Lateral  view  of  adult  human  brain  ....  Following  8 
Brain  of  a  fifteen  year  old  idiot Following  8 

Section  of  human  brain  parallel  to  mesial  surface  Following      8 

Section  from  the  cortex  of  a  two  months'  human 

fetus Following      8 

Section  from  the  cortex  of  a  human  fetus  at  the 

beginning  of  the  third  month Following      8 

Adult  human   cortical   cell,   showing  dendrite   cell 

body  and  neurite Following      8 

Phylogenetic  and  octogenetic  development  of  neu- 
rons      Following      8 

Development  from  birth  to  110  days  of  a  Purkinje 

nerve  cell  from  the  cerebellum  of  a  white  rat  Following      8 

Sections  from  the  cortex  of  rats  of  different  ages 

from  birth  to  20  days Facing      9 

A  few  of  the  many  types  of  neurons  in  the  human 

nervous  system Facing    10 

Section  thru  a  convolution  of  the  cortex  of  a  one 

month  old  child Following     10 

OJ 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

VAGI 

Diagram  showing  the  simplest  neuron  pattern  from 
a  stimulus  applied  to  the  toe,  producing  sensa- 
tion in  cortex  and  returning  to  the  muscle  that 
moves  the  toe Following  10 

Central  connections  of  the  olfactory  neurons     .  Following    10 

Diagram  to  show  the  layers  of  cells  and  fibres  in 

the  gray  matter  of  the  human  cerebral  cortex  Following    10 

Human  cerebral  hemisphere  seen  from  the  left  side  .  Facing    12 

Some  of  the  chief  association  tracts  of  the  cerebral 

hemisphere Facing    12 

Lateral  and  median  views  of  the  human  cerebral 

hemispheres Facing    14 

Development  from  birth  to  110  days  of  a  Purkinje 

nerve  cell Facing    15 

Sections  thru  brain  of  child  at  end  of  second  week 

and  second  month  of  life Facing    16 

Curves  showing  the  thickness  of  the  cortex  in  four- 
teen different  areas  of  each  hemisphere  of  the 
brain  of  Laura  Bridgman  in  comparison  with 
the  average  thickness  of  similar  areas  from  ten 
normal  brains Facing  18 

Section  of  spinal  cord  showing  simple  reflex  arc 

from  skin  to  muscle Facing    20 

Diagram  of  the  simplest  possible  reflex  arc  from 

epidermis  thru  cerebral  cortex  to  striped  muscle  Facing    22 

Showing  the  extra  synapse  in  the  thalamus  and 

the  pyramidal  tract Following    22 

Value  of  synapses  in  reducing  the  number  of  neu- 
rons needed  to  associate  stimuli Facing  23 

Diagram  of  telegraph  relay  as  illustration  of  way 

nerve  cells  transmit  energy Facing    24 

The  probable   course  of  impulses   and  the   inter- 

neuronal  connections  in  the  cortex    .     .     .  Following    24 

Neuron  pattern  slightly  more  complex     .     .     .  Following    24 
A  relatively  complex  neuron  pattern  ....  Following    24 

Section  from  the  brain  illustrating  a  highly  complex 

neuron  pattern Following    24 

fxvij 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Section  of  cortex  showing  the  multiplicity  of  possi- 
ble patterns Facing  25 

Section  of  spinal  cord  showing  simple  reflex  arc 

from  skin  to  muscle Facing  26 

Diagram  to  illustrate  possible  curves  of  development 

of  intelligence  from  birth  to  20  years  .  .  .  Facing  34 

Some  of  the  chief  association  tracts  of  the  cerebral 

hemisphere Facing    36 

Diagram  to  illustrate  what  happens  in  brain  when 

ideas  are  associated Facing    44 

Curves  showing  the  successive  tests  of  several  chil- 
dren who  are  in  the  slowing-down  stage      .     .  Facing    62 
Dorsal  views  of  two  brains Facing    64 

Comparison  of  four  types  of  brain  cells,  normal  and 

idiot Facing    65 

Microcephalic  idiot  boy  22  years  old Facing    78 

Brain  of  case  pictured  in  Fig.  38 Facing    79 

Curves  showing  development  of  ability  as  measured 

by  the  Adaptation  Board Facing  104 

The  sympathetic  system Facing  126 

More  important  distributions  of  the  autonomic  ner- 
vous system Facing  128 

McDougall's  theory  of  the  emotions Facing  142 

Diagram  of  the  mechanism  of  re-enforcement    .     .  151 

High  grade  Moron,  and  a  sample  of  his  work    .      .  Facing  190 

Possible  neuron  connections  in  instructive,  automatic 

and  deliberative  action Facing  200 

Curve  of  distribution 235 

Reproduction  of  Millet's  Man  with  the  Hoe  .     .     .  Facing  240 

Attempts  of  five  and  six  year  old  children  to  draw 

a  diamond Facing  256 

Attempts  of  seven  and  eight  year  old  children  to 

draw  a  diamond Facing  257 

[xvii] 


INTRODUCTION 

PSYCHOLOGY  is  the  science  of  mind.  It  may  be  subdi- 
vided into  human  psychology  and  animal  psychology. 
Human  psychology  may  be  divided  into  child  psychology 
and  adult  psychology,  and  again  into  normal  and  abnor- 
mal psychology.  Obviously  these  last  overlap  so  that  we 
may  have  normal  and  abnormal  child  psychology,  and 
normal  and  abnormal  adult  psychology. 

As  long  as  psychology  was  confined  to  introspection  for 
its  data  it  was  limited  to  normal  adult  human  individual 
psychology. 

In  some  respects  this  was  unfortunate  since  it  doomed 
the  psychologist  to  work  on  the  most  complicated  type  of 
mind  instead  of  the  simplest. 

The  biologist  does  not  seize  upon  the  first  animal  or 
plant  that  comes  to  hand  and  attempt  to  solve  his  prob- 
lem. Instead  he  seeks  a  plant  or  animal  of  the  simplest 
structure  that  can  furnish  the  data  needed.  He  proceeds 
from  the  simple  to  the  complex.  The  history  of  psychol- 
ogy shows  the  opposite  procedure.  The  psychologist  has 
seized  upon  the  first  material  at  hand.  He  has  attempted 
to  solve  his  problem  by  studying  the  adult  human  mind 
and  usually  a  very  highly  developed  adult.  He  has  thus 
attacked  the  problem  by  the  use  of  the  most  complex  ma- 
terial possible.  As  a  natural  result,  there  has  been  much 
confusion,  many  controversies  have  arisen  and  the  de- 
velopment of  the  science  has  been  very  slow. 

[xix] 


INTRODUCTION 

The  study  of  the  child  was  a  great  step  forward  since 
the  child  mind  is  vastly  simpler  than  that  of  the  adult. 
But  child  study  has  had  two  significant  limitations.  The 
first  comes  from  the  fact  that  children  are  both  normal 
and  abnormal.  But  this  fact  was  not  recognized  in  early 
investigations.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  in  practically  every 
statistical  study  of  children  2%  of  the  subjects  were 
feeble-minded;  and  perhaps  an  equal  per  cent  were  ab- 
normally bright.  Such  being  the  case  the  results  must 
be  contradictory  and  disappointing  and  often  erroneous. 
It  was  like  attempting  to  learn  the  normal  human  temper- 
ature by  taking  the  temperature  of  a  group  of  people 
some  of  whom  had  fever. 

The  second  limitation  comes  from  the  fact  that  the 
normal  child  develops  so  rapidly  that  it  is  exceedingly 
difficult  to  ascertain  his  actual  condition  at  any  one  time. 
It  is  now  possible  to  eliminate  both  these  difficulties. 
We  can  ascertain  the  normality  or  abnormality  of  the 
children  that  we  study,  and  thus  separate  them  into 
groups  and  study  each  group  by  itself. 

In  the  feeble-minded  we  have  a  group  of  people  who 
are  not  developing  and  consequently  are  more  easily 
studied.  A  child  arrested  in  his  mental  development  at 
eight  years  has  eight  year  mentality  the  rest  of  his  life. 
We  can  therefore  devote  as  much  time  as  we  wish  to 
studying  the  actual  conditions  of  the  mind  at  the  eight 
year  level.  The  advantages  of  this  are  many.  A  per- 
son, who  stands  near-by  and  watches  a  passing  train  go- 
ing at  sixty  miles  an  hour,  can  see  very  few  of  its  details. 
If  it  passes  at  five  miles  an  hour  he  can  see  much  more ; 
while,  if  it  is  side-tracked  and  stopped,  the  amount  he  can 
see  is  limited  only  by  his  time  and  his  methods  of  inves- 
tigation. The  feeble-minded  are  stopped  in  their  de- 

[xx] 


INTRODUCTION 

velopment  and  there  are  almost  no  limitations  to  the  op- 
portunities they  afford  for  study. 

In  taking  up  such  study  a  question  at  once  arises  as 
to  the  validity  of  conclusions  drawn  from  abnormal  ma- 
terial. Can  we  conclude  that  what  we  learn  from  these 
cases  of  arrested  development  gives  us  a  true  picture  of 
normal  mind  ?  The  question  can  be  best  answered  by  con- 
sidering the  general  nature  of  the  feeble-minded.  First 
it  must  be  noted  that  the  feeble-minded  are  not  cases  of 
disease.  It  is  true  that  the  feeble-minded  may  become 
diseased  just  as  do  other  people ;  but  such  cases  must  be 
ruled  out  or  allowed  for.  The  feeble-minded  may  be- 
come insane,  they  are  subject  to  epilepsy  and  hydro- 
cephalus,  hemiplegias,  and  the  like.  But  pure  feeble- 
mindedness is  free  from  these  and  closely  approximates 
the  mental  state  of  the  normal  child  of  the  same  mental 
age.  Moreover,  observation,  such  as  a  year's  residence 
among  a  group  of  the  feeble-minded  permits,  shows 
clearly  that  as  far  as  they  go  their  minds  function  much 
like  the  normal  mind.  While,  as  we  shall  see  later,  they 
are  limited  in  the  various  mental  processes,  yet  they  have 
memories,  they  pay  attention,  they  see,  hear,  taste  and 
smell ;  they  have  instincts ;  they  are  glad  and  sorry,  they 
exercise  judgment  and  reason  to  a  certain  extent,  show 
some  choice  and  volition.  They  are  good  natured,  happy, 
care  free  individuals  interested  in  their  work  and  their 
play.  So  that,  if  one  is  ignorant  of  their  actual  age,  and 
their  physical  growth  does  not  make  the  discrepancy  ob- 
vious, one  easily  forgets  that  they  are  not  normal.  In- 
deed, visitors  to  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  often 
think  that  some  of  the  children  must  be  the  normal  chil- 
dren of  the  officers  of  the  institution. 

We  have  just  said,  that  if  their  physical  growth  did  not 

[xxi] 


INTRODUCTION 

make  it  evident  that  they  were  defective,  one  could  forget 
the  fact.  This  matter  of  physical  growth  is  important. 
By  physical  growth  we  do  not  refer  to  deformities.  A 
case  of  pure  feeble-mindedness,  uncomplicated  by  dis- 
ease, shows  no  physical  deformities  that  are  worth  con- 
sidering. The  group  of  children  in  the  school  department 
of  any  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  look  like  any 
other  group  of  school  children.  In  the  case  of  the  defect- 
ives of  adult  age,  however,  the  body  grows  to  adult  form 
and  stature,  while  the  mind  remains  that  of  a  child. 
What  effect  does  this  adult  body  have  upon  the  mind?  A 
child  of  six  with  a  six  year  old  body  is  normal,  but  a  mind 
of  six  in  a  body  of  twenty  must  be  something  different. 
The  possession  of  greater  muscular  power  must  produce 
a  different  mental  content.  For  example,  a  larger  hand 
with  a  stronger  grasp  must  give  a  greater  sense  of  power. 
Adult  sex  development  with  the  strong  instincts  must 
modify  the  mental  make-up  to  some  degree.  All  this 
has  to  be  allowed  for  in  the  final  analysis ;  and  fortunately 
experience  indicates  that  it  is  relatively  easy  to  make 
this  allowance.  Moreover  the  safety  of  our  conclusion, 
that  we  may  consider  what  we  learn  from  defectives 
valid  for  normal  mind,  is  strengthened  by  the  fact  that 
approximately  two-thirds  of  such  cases  are  cases  of  her- 
editary defect.  Hence,  according  to  the  doctrine  that  ac- 
quired characteristics  are  not  transmitted,  we  may  feel 
sure  that  we  do  not  have  in  these  cases  any  gross  devi- 
ation from  the  natural  functioning  of  the  human  mind; 
but  only  a  stopping  of  the  development  at  an  early  point. 
Still  further,  we  are  not  limited  to  our  study  of  the  de- 
fectives themselves  since  it  is  always  possible  to  turn 
from  these  to  the  normal  child  and  compare  the  two,  with 
the  result  that,  having  seen  a  trait  or  a  process  in  the  de- 

[xxii] 


INTRODUCTION 

fective,  we  are  now  able  to  see  it  in  the  normal  child. 
Whereas  not  having  first  seen  the  trait  in  the  defective 
we  would  not  be  able  to  see  it  in  the  normal  child  be- 
cause of  the  complexity  of  his  activity. 

It  may  not  be  without  value  also  to  state  that,  from 
what  we  now  know,  the  variation  from  the  normal  in  the 
brains  of  defectives  is  exceedingly  minute.  That  is  to 
say,  the  gross  anatomy  has  every  appearance  resembling 
the  normal  brain.  Even  the  microscopic  structure  is  to 
a  large  extent  and  in  large  areas  apparently  normal. 
From  this  we  may  safely  conclude  that  up  to  a  certain 
point  the  functioning  of  the  brain  will  be  normal.  It  is 
true  that  our  knowledge  of  the  brain  of  the  defective  is 
still  limited,  but  from  what  we  do  know,  we  find  that  it  is 
safe  to  reason  to  the  normal  brain;  and  from  what  we 
find  of  the  mental  make-up  of  these  cases,  coupled  with 
what  we  know  of  normal  brain  and  normal  mind,  we  are 
able  to  draw  certain  conclusions  and  make  certain  analo- 
gies and  inferences  that  tell  us  much  about  the  condition 
of  the  feeble-minded.  With  these  precautions  we  shall 
proceed  in  the  following  chapters  to  draw  a  picture  of  the 
workings  of  the  human  mind,  taking  into  consideration 
at  each  step  such  facts  as  we  have  been  clearly  able  to 
observe  in  these  cases  of  arrested  mental  development. 

Since  a  nervous  system  conditions  the  mental  processes 
and  it  is  easier  to  understand  an  abstract  concept  if  we 
understand  the  concrete  thing  from  which  it  was  ab- 
stracted, we  shall  devote  the  first  two  chapters  to  a 
working  plan  of  the  nervous  mechanism,  using  such  facts 
as  are  generally  accepted  by  neurologists  and  supplement- 
ing these  by  such  hypotheses  as  are  necessary  to  com- 
plete the  picture  and  at  the  same  time  are  not  contra- 
dicted by  any  known  facts. 

[xxiii] 


INTRODUCTION 

It  will  be  well  for  the  student  always  to  differentiate 
very  carefully  between  what  is  known  fact  and  what  is 
an  hypothesis  assumed  for  the  sake  of  completing  the 
picture.  Joseph  Cook  used  to  say  that  he  did  not  like 
to  call  himself  a  seeker  after  truth  because  "truth"  too 
often  means  one's  own  opinion.  But  he  thought  it  was 
much  safer  to  be  a  seeker  after  clearness.  In  the  fol- 
lowing pages  we  have  sought  for  clearness  with  the  under- 
lying thought  that  while  there  is  no  expectation  that  our 
formulation  is  the  final  truth,  yet  if  we  violate  no  known 
facts,  our  formulation  will  be  helpful  in  proportion  as  it 
is  clear. 


[xxiv] 


PART  I 

PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE 
NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 


CHAPTER  I 
NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

THE  human  nervous  system  is  the  most  elaborate  and 
complicated  structure  in  the  entire  body.  It  consists  of 
two  main  parts,  the  cerebro-spinal  and  the  sympathetic. 
The  latter  is  sometimes  called  the  vegetative  and  more 
recently  the  autonomous,  nervous  system. 

The  cerebro-spinal  system  is  again  sub-divided  for  con- 
venience into  the  central  nervous  system  composed  of 
the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and  the  peripheral  system 
composed  of  the  nerves  extending  to  the  surface  of  the 
body  and  modified  as  special  sense  organs  or  as  the  nerve 
endings  attached  to  muscles. 

The  central  nervous  system,  and  especially  the  brain, 
has  usually  been  considered  the  main  and  almost  the  only 
organ  of  mind.  More  recent  studies,  however,  have 
shown  the  importance  of  the  sympathetic  system  for  an 
understanding  of  certain  phases  of  mind.  This  will  be 
discussed  in  its  place. 

Of  the  central  nervous  system  the  spinal  cord  is  rela- 
tively simple.  It  may  be  thot  of  as  a  tube  of  nervous 
tissue,  enclosed  in  and  extending  about  two-thirds  the 
length  of,  the  spinal  column.  The  wall  of  this  tube  is 
relatively  very  thick  and  the  canal  very  small.  From  the 
anterior  side  of  each  segment  of  this  cord,  corresponding 

[3] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

with  each  vertebra  in  the  spinal  column,  nerves  pass  out 
to  the  muscles.  At  the  posterior  side  of  each  segment 
enter  nerves  from  the  sensory  organs  at  the  surface  of 
the  body — the  skin,  tendons,  etc.  The  nerves,  passing  up 
and  down  the  cord,  constitute  the  principal  part  of  the 
cord  itself. 

The  brain  is  so  enormously  complicated  that  it  has 
taken  years  for  scientists  to  understand  as  much  as  is 
now  known  about  its  structure.  The  problem  is  much 
simplified  if  we  understand  that  the  brain  is  the  modified 
upper  end  of  the  spinal  cord  contained  within  the  skull. 
The  complication  arises  from  the  fact  that  within  the 
skull  this  long,  comparatively  simple  spinal  cord  has  be- 
come bent  up,  its  different  parts  have  grown  at  different 
rates,  and  the  whole  has  crowded  itself  into  the  generally 
spherical  shape  of  the  skull  cavity.  The  result  is  the 
solid  mass  that  we  recognize  as  the  brain. 

The  number  and  direction  of  the  flexures  that  have 
taken  place  may  be  more  easily  understood  if  one  thinks 
of  a  person  in  a  closely  crouching  position.  The  foot 
will  represent  the  spinal  cord  as  it  enters  the  skull;  the 
ankle  is  the  first  bend,  the  knee  the  second  and  the  hip  the 
third.  The  under  side  of  the  thigh  represents  the  part 
that  develops  into  the  cerebellum.  Think  now  of  the 
head  which  represents  the  cerebrum  growing  back  and 
covering  the  body  as  far  as  the  hips  and  one  has  a  con- 
venient, if  crude,  picture  of  the  growth  of  the  encephalon 
— the  part  within  the  head.  . 

The  arrangement  of  nerves  going  out  from  the  cord 
and  coming  in  from  the  surface  may  still  be  made  out 
within  the  skull,  tho  because  of  the  irregular  growth  and 
crowded  condition  their  course  is  very  much  complicated 
and  has  been  very  difficult  to  trace.  This  part  of  the 

[4] 


Fig.  1.  A,  General  view  of  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous  system 
showing  location  in  the  head  and  spinal  column. 

Fig.  1.  B,  the  same  removed.  Seen  from  the  front  with  the 
hrain  (the  encephalon)  turned  back  so  as  to  show  its  un- 
der side.  The  paired  branches  are  the  spinal  nerves.  The 
slight  swelling  at  the  end  of  each  indicates  the  spinal 
ganglion.  At  these  points  the  nerves  have  been  severed 
from  the  peripheral  nervous  system. 

From   Van  Geliuchten 


CEPHALIC 
FLEXURE 


V,||   CERVICAL 
•        PONTINF.  FLEXURE 

.-'*—•  FLEXURE 


Fig1.  2.  Profile  view  of  a  human  embryo  of  6  weeks.  As 
growth  advances  the  cerebellum  will  appear  as  an 
outgrowth  at  B;  arid  F,  cerebrum  (sometimes  called 
the  pallium  mantle)  will  rapidly  extend  until  it  en- 
velops all  that  is  here  shown  except  a  part  of  A  and 
the  cerebellum,  which  tho  partly  covered  by  the  cere- 
brum is  nevertheless  distinctly  visible  in  such  a  view 
as  Fig.  1.  A  and  B. 

From  Dunlap 


THE  CENTRAL  NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

primitive  spinal  cord  which  is  situated  within  the  skull  is 
called  the  brain,  or  often  the  encephalon.  It  comprises 
three  main  divisions,  counting  from  the  point  where  the 
cord  enters  the  skull:  the  medulla  oblongata,  the  cere- 
bellum and  the  cerebrum. 

Fig.  1  shows  a  picture  of  the  central  nervous  system, 
that  is,  the  spinal  cord  with  the  encephalon.  A  pictures 
it  as  it  is  located  in  the  body.  B  the  same  removed.  The 
position  of  the  spinal  nerves  is  shown  and  the  points  at 
which  the  peripheral  nerves  have  been  cut  off. 

Fig.  2  shows  the  encephalon  while  still  in  a  primitive 
condition ;  it  is  possible  to  trace  the  several  turnings  and 
to  note  where  the  medulla,  the  cerebellum  and  the  cere- 
brum develop.  It  will  be  noted  in  this  figure  that  at  this 
period  the  cerebrum  is  relatively  small  and  located  at 
the  very  extreme  front  end  of  the  cord;  and  also  that 
this  outgrowth  takes  place  on  the  two  sides  of  the  an- 
terior end  of  the  cord.  From  this  it  results  that  the  com- 
plete cerebrum  is  in  two  parts  known  as  the  cerebral 
hemispheres.  As  development  proceeds,  the  various 
parts  become  very  much  more  closely  crowded  together 
with  the  result  that  in  the  adult  brain  it  is  impossible  to 
trace  the  curves  and  bends  of  the  cord. 

The  cerebellum  develops  from  the  part  marked  B  in 
Fig.  2,  and  covers  the  medulla.  The  cerebrum  grows  so 
much  faster  and  becomes  so  much  larger  than  the  rest 
of  the  encephalon  that  it  grows  over  everything  that  is 
seen  in  Fig.  2,  as  far  back  as  the  part  marked  B,  from 
which  the  cerebellum  develops,  and  even  covers  a  large 
part  of  that  organ.  We  shall  presently  discuss  this 
growth  of  the  cerebrum  and  picture  its  development  at 
various  stages,  both  its  external  shape  and  its  size  and 
internal  structure. 

[5] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  Sympathetic  System. — Fig.  3,  A  and  B,  gives  a 
general  view  of  the  arrangement  of  the  nerves  of  the 
sympathetic  system.  This  also  is  a  very  elaborate  sys- 
tem in  that  it  extends  to  all  the  organs  within  the  abdom- 
inal cavity  as  well  as  to  the  involuntary  muscles,  and  so 
extensive  is  it  in  each  organ,  that  the  statement  has  been 
made  that  were  all  the  other  tissue  of  each  organ  re- 
moved leaving  only  the  sympathetic  nerves,  that  they 
alone  would  preserve  completely  the  shape  of  the  organ. 
This  will  give  some  idea  of  its  extent. 

The  cerebro-spinal  system  and  the  sympathetic  are  con- 
nected at  a  series  of  points.  The  nerves  that  pass  in 
and  out  from  the  spinal  cord  at  each  vertebra,  as  already 
described,  send  off  two  branches  each  to  what  are  known 
as  the  sympathetic  ganglia.  One  of  these  branches  is 
evidently  outgoing  and  the  other  incoming.  Fig.  4  A 
shows  this  connecton.  Fig.  4  B  shows  it  in  detail.  There 
is  no  other  known  connection  between  the  two  systems. 
We  shall  now  turn  to  consider  more  in  detail  the  growth 
and  structure  of  the  cerebrum. 

Just  as  the  body  as  a  whole  grows  from  about  6  pounds 
weight  at  birth  to  say  140  pounds  at  age  of  twenty  and 
from  a  helpless  weakling  to  a  man  of  strength,  so  the 
brain  grows  from  360  grams  (12  ounces)  average  weight 
at  birth  to  about  1400  grams  (3  Ibs.)  at  age  of  twenty.1 

Coincident  with  this  growth  of  brain  is  a  growth  of 
mind  from  infant  to  adult  intelligence. 

The  development  of  mind  is  dependent  upon  the  growth 
of  the  brain. 

1  Professor  Marchand,  of  Marburg,  in  a  study  of  1169  cases,  finds  the 
average  weight  of  the  brain  at  birth  of  a  male  child  is  360  grams  and  of  a 
female  child  353  grams.  The  maximum  brain  weight  is  usually  attained 
about  the  twentieth  year,  when  the  male's  average  is  about  1400  grams. 
The  female  maximum  is  usually  reached  about  the  seventeenth  year,  when 
the  average  is  1275  grams. 

[6] 


'•Qttaffufffu 

''.e,^iu,,.,>f'^,::-Sft,,tf,/,t,,,(tlKi,i,Jfnfti,, 


Coccyyeal 


Fig.  3.  A,  the  sympathetic  system  showing  its  location  in  the  body. 

Fig.  3.  B,  the  same  removed.  The  black  knots  in  the  chain  are  the  sym- 
pathetic ganglia :  the  paired  lines  extending  to  the  left  from  each  gan- 
glion are  the  rami  communicant es  or  connecting  branches  that  join  the 
sympathetic  system  to  the  cerebro-spinal.  This  chain  is  just  outside 
the  spinal  column. 

From  Van  Gehiichten  after  Scliwabbe 


I'pper  limb 


Fig.  4.  A,  detail  showing  the  relation  of  the  chain  of  sympathetic  gan- 
glia (black)  to  the  spinal  cord  and  spinal  nerves.  At  the  top,  the 
brain  seen  from  the  front. 

From  Morat 

Fig.  4.  B,  detail.  Cross  section  at  a  segment  of  the  spinal  cord,  show- 
ing spinal  nerves  and  spinal  ganglion  and  sympathetic  ganglion. 

From  Santee 


GROWTH  OF  THE  BRAIN 

Fig.  2  shows  the  brain  of  the  human  embryo  at  6  weeks. 
We  pointed  out  (p.  3)  that  the  part  marked  cerebral  hemi- 
sphere would,  as  development  proceeded,  largely  cover 
the  other  parts  here  shown.  At  16  weeks  this  has  actually 
taken  place.  Fig.  6  A  shows  this  stage,  while  B,  C,  &  D 
show  the  further  growth  up  to  adult  life.  An  idea  of  the 
amount  of  growth  can  be  had  from  comparing  these  cuts, 
since  each  shows  the  actual  size  at  the  time  given.  From 
the  stage  shown  in  Fig.  6  A,  the  brain  and  especially  the 
cerebrum  grows  faster  than  the  skull  which  surrounds  it. 
The  result  is  that  the  cerebrum  "folds  in"  making 
wrinkles  or  as  they  are  technically  called  convolutions  or 
gyri  (singular  gyrus).  The  space  between  two  gyri  is 
called  a  fissure  or  sulcus  (plural  sulci). 

Fig.  6  B  C  D,  shows  the  increasing  development  of 
these  convolutions.  These  figures  show  only  the  outside 
convolutions:  there  are  also  mesial  surfaces  where  the 
two  hemispheres  meet.  These  mesial  surfaces  have  their 
convolutions  the  same  as  the  outside  surfaces.  These 
mesial  surfaces  can  be  seen  in  figure  7 — bottom  right — 
where  the  hemispheres  have  been  cut  through  the  median 
line  and  laid  out  flat.  If  one  imagines  the  two  parts 
here  shown,  hinged  at  their  adjacent  edges  and  folded 
together  he  will  understand  the  true  relationship. 

In  Fig.  8  can  be  seen  the  cerebrum  extending  over  the 
cerebellum,  the  attachment  of  both  to  the  "brain  stem" 
(the  end  of  the  primitive  spinal  cord),  and  the  layer  of 
gray  matter  known  as  the  cortex  that  constitutes  the 
outer  layer  of  the  cerebrum  and  cerebellum. 

The  brain  grows  not  only  in  bulk,  as  the  weights  given 
on  page  6  would  indicate,  but  also  in  complexity  of  struc- 
ture and  this  is  by  far  the  most  important  fact. 

Turning  now  to  the  internal  structure  and  development 

[7] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  the  brain  we  find  conditions  and  changes  no  less  strik- 
ing than  the  change  in  external  appearance.  The  brain 
is  made  up  principally  of  two  kinds  of  tissue.  The  nerve 
tissue  comprises  an  enormous  number  of  individual  cells 
called  neurons.  The  child  at  birth  has  ten  thousand  mil- 
lion (10,000,000,000)  brain  cells  or  neurons,  which  number 
is  never  increased  throughout  the  life  of  the  individual. 
The  growth  and  increase  is  in  size,  not  in  number.  Since 
the  brain  is  relatively  well  developed  at  birth,  we  must 
go  back  to  an  earlier  period  to  see  these  cells  in  their 
simplest  form.  Fig.  9  shows  a  section  from  a  two  months 
old  fetal  brain.  The  nerve  cells  appear  in  ordinary  cell 
form,  microscopic,  globular  masses  each  with  its  nucleus 
and  nucleolus.  Fig  10  shows  a  section  of  the  brain  of  a 
three  months  fetus.  Here  is  seen  the  beginning  of  the 
development  of  these  cells  into  the  specialized  neuron 
form.  Fig.  11  shows  the  fully  developed  cortical  brain 
cell  of  the  adult.  Fig.  12  (lower  part)  shows  the  various 
stages  of  brain  development  of  cells  from  their  earliest 
appearance  in  the  embryo  to  full  maturity. 

Fig.  12  (upper  part)  shows  the  development  of  the 
same  type  of  cell  in  the  animal  series,  from  which  it  will 
be  seen  that  the  human  adult  has  the  most  elaborately 
developed  cortical  cell  of  all  animals. 

Not  all  the  original  cells  develop  into  the  same  type. 
There  are  many  forms.  Fig.  13  A  shows  the  development 
of  another  type,  the  Purkinje  cell,  found  in  the  cerebellum. 
It  is  characterized,  as  will  be  seen,  by  the  enormous 
branching  of  its  dendritic  process.  B  shows  the  develop- 
ment of  the  cortex  in  thickness  and  in  complexity. 

A  nerve  cell  or  neuron  is  compo.sed  of  three  parts,  the 
cell  body,  the  dendrite  or  tree-like  portion  and  the  neu- 
rite.  See  Fig.  11.  In  the  cortical  cell  shown  and  in  the 

[8] 


CEPHALIC 
FLEXURE 


VIM   CERVICAL 
PONTINF.  FLEXURE 

FLEXURE 


Fig.  5.  Profile  view  of  a  human  embryo  of  6  weeks.  As 
growth  advances  the  cerebellum  will  appear  as  an  out- 
growth at  B;  and  F,  cerebrum  (sometimes  called  the 
pallium  mantle^  will  rapidly  extend  until  it  envelops 
all  that  is  here  shown  except  a  part  of  A  and  the 
cerebellum,  which  tho  partly  covered  by  the  cerebrum 
is  nevertheless  distinctly  visible  in  such  a  view  as  Fig. 
1,  A  and  B. 

From  Dunlap 


Fig.  6.  A,  lateral  view  of  human  embryo  at  about  4  months.     Natural  size. 
Fig.  6.  B,  similar  view  of  brain  of  human  embryo  at  about  5y2  months. 
Natural  size. 

Fig.   6.   C,  similar  view  of  child  born  at  7  months.     Natural  size.     Note  the 
rapid  growth  and  increase  of  the  number  of  convolutions  and  gyri. 

From  Van  GehucJiten 


«  a 


fl 
S3 

j 


CO 

&b 


£>(JRFACES 
LEFT  HEMISPHERE    RIGHT 


Fig.  7.  The  brain  of  a  15  year  old  idiot  viewed  from  every  posi- 
tion —  above,  below,  right  and  left  side,  anterior  and  posterior 
ends,  and  mesial  surface.  For  the  latter  the  two  hemispheres 
nave  been  cut  apart. 

From  Vhielatid  Laboratory 


J?ig.  8.  Section  of  human  brain  parallel  to  mesial  surface  and 
about  Vi  inch  to  the  right  of  it.  The  section  not  only  cuts 
across  the  convolutions  of  the  external  surface  but  it  also  cuts 
off  the  fissures  from  the  mesial  surface.  Bounding1  these  con- 
volutions and  fissures  is  the  coiiex  (the  gray  band).  The 
cerebellum  is  seen  at  the  lower  right.  The  central  mass  fron: 
which  the  cerebellum  seems  to  grow  is  the  brain  stem — the 
upper  end  of  the  primitive  spiral  cnrd.  Note  that  the  cere- 
brum is  attached  to  it  only  ft  thf  V&TV  front  (left)  end.  Sec- 
tion is  about  %  natural  size.  Made  from  a  preparation  by 
the  author. 


mSKw^V 

SfM)  f\§i  ill 

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Fig.  9.   Section  from  the  cortex  ot 

a  two  months'  human  fetus. 
Figs.   9   and   10   from   Bailey 
and  Miller  after  His.  Cajal 


mms 


Fig.  10.  Section  from  the  cortex  of 
a  human  fetus  at  the  beginning 
of  the  third  month.  Compare 
with  Fig.  9  and  note  the  rapid 
development  of  the  nerve  cells. 


Plume 


Bas.  dendriies 


Collat 


•  Axis,  cylind. 


Fig.  11.  Adult  human  cortical  cell,  showing  dendrite  (tree 
like  portion)  cell  body  and  neurite  (fine  vertical  line  and 
its  branches  the  "collaterals").  Arrows  show  the  direc- 
tion of  the  flow  of  nervous  energy. 

From  Mo  rat 


Fig.  12.  Phylogenetic  and  ontogenetic  development  of  neurons  with  long 
axones  from  pyramidal  cells  of  cerebral  cortex.  Upper  series  represents 
phylogenetic  development  of  these  cells:  A,  in  frog;  B,  in  newt;  C, 
rat;  D,  man.  The  lower  series  shows  the  ontogenetic  development  of 
the  neuroblasts  of  those  cells  in  five  successive  stages  a,  b,  c,  d,  e. 

From  Cajal 


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0 -?if f: «'fe'» :  Jf  ^  xp;.    f  *     t      . ' &     '  r 


'*£& 


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Birth 


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Mday 


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//. 


Fig.  13.  B,  sections  from  the  cortex  of  rats  of  different  ages  from 
birth  to  20  days,  showing  rapidity  of  growth  in  thickness  of 
cortex  and  of  the  cells. 

From  Addition, 


NEURITES  AND  DENDEITES 

Purkinje  cell  the  dendrite  and  the  neurite  have  a  dis- 
tinctly different  appearance,  but  in  many  types  no  such 
difference  is  apparent.  Different  views  have  been  held  as 
to  the  functions  of  these  two,  but  at  present  there  is  no  ac- 
cepted difference  except  that  the  dendrite  is  the  part 
that  receives  the  energy  and  the  neurite  passes  it  on. 
The  cell  body  is  approximately  the  same  in  all  cells  but 
the  dendrites  and  neurites  take  many  different  forms. 
Whereas  the  cell  body  and  the  cross  section  of  the  neurite 
or  dendrite  are  microscopic,  the  length  of  the  neurites  or 
dendrites  may  be  relatively  great.  For  example  a  sen- 
sory neuron  may  have  its  dendrite  in  the  toe  and  the  end 
of  its  neurite  in  the  neck  (see  Fig.  16)  a  cortical  cell 
(motor)  has  its  dendrite  and  cell  body  in  the  cortex  but 
its  neurite  may  extend  to  the  lowest  segment  of  the  spinal 
cord. 

We  must  think  of  the  ten  thousand  million  neurons  as 
divided  into  many  groups.  Some  of  the  many  different 
types  are  shown  in  Fig.  14.  The  tracing  of  these  dif- 
ferent groups  and  the  inter-relations  of  their  fibres  and 
the  functions  of  each  constitutes  a  study  by  itself,  the 
science  of  neurology.  For  our  present  purpose  we 
need  only  a  very  crude  and  simple  statement  of  the  gen- 
eral plan.  Those  who  aspire  to  a  more  thoro  under- 
standing of  the  system  (and  it  is  a  most  commendable  as- 
piration) are  referred  to  special  books  on  the  subject. 
Perhaps  the  most  convenient  for  the  beginner  is  Her- 
rick  (23),  where  will  also  be  found  abundant  references  to 
larger  works. 

Each  neuron  generates  and  transmits  nerve  energy, 
called  neurokyme.  The  whole  nerve  system  is  perhaps 
best  understood  by  likening  it  to  an  elaborate  telephone 
system,  where  the  cell  body  is  the  battery  and  the  neu- 

[9] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

rites  and  dendrites  are  the  wires.  The  neurites  and  den- 
drites  are  often  called  nerve  processes  or  nerve  fibres  and, 
whether  long  or  short,  when  fully  developed  they  gener- 
ally end  in  many  branches,  each  branch  being  in  close  re- 
lation to  the  branches  of  other  neurites  or  dendrites. 
This  point  of  contact  or  proximity  of  the  endings  of  the 
branches  of  different  neurons  is  called  the  synapse.  By 
this  arrangement,  each  neuron  is  in  possible  connection 
with  a  large  number  of  other  neurons  just  as  in  the  tele- 
phone system  one  may  call  in  over  his  line  and  become 
connected  with  any  other  line  in  the  whole  system. 

Fig.  15  gives  a  good  idea  of  the  way  these  neurons  are 
placed  and  the  possibilities  of  inter-communication  from 
one  neuron  to  any  one  of  many  others.  To  make  the  mat- 
ter still  clearer  we  give  in  Fig.  16  the  neuron  connections 
for  a  simple  sensori-motor  experience.  Something 
presses  against  my  toe  and  I  immediately  move  it  to  es- 
cape the  pressure.  The  object  touching  my  toe  stimulates 
the  end  of  the  dendrite  that  is  just  under  the  skin.  That 
dendrite  extends  from  that  point  to  a  point  just  outside 
the  spinal  cord  where  the  leg  joins  the  trunk.  Here  will 
be  found  the  cell  body  in  what  is  known  as  a  sensory 
ganglion  or  spinal  ganglion.  The  neurite  from  that  cell 
body  passes  into  the  spinal  cord  and  up  the  cord  to  its 
very  top  in  the  neck.  Here  it  ends  in  many  branches. 
One  of  these  is  close  to  the  very  short  dendrite  of  an- 
other neuron  whose  neurite  extends  on  to  the  very  top  of 
the  brain,  just  about  at  the  top-most  point  of  the  head,  in 
the  cortex.  Here  it  too  ends  in  many  branches,  one  of 
which  is  in  contact  with  a  very  short  dendrite,  whose  cell 
body  lies  near  by,  but  whose  neurite  extends  down 
thru  the  brain  and  thru  the  spinal  cord  to  a  point  on 
the  front  side  of  the  cord  opposite  the  sensory  ganglion 

[10] 


Fig.  15.  Section  thru  a  convolution  of  the  cortex  of  a  one  month 
old  child,  showing  structure  and  arrangement  of  neurons. 
Numbers  at  side  show  the  layers  into  which  the  cortex  lias  been 
divided. 

From  Cajal 


Fig.  16.  Diagram  showing  the  simplest  neuron  pattern  from  a 
stimulus  applied  to  the  toe  producing  sensation  in  cortex  and 
returning  to  the  muscle  that  moves  the  toe.  Note  the  possible 
length  of  the  various  neurons.  All  these  neurons  would  have 
many  other  possible  connections  not  shown  here. 


'-;i;ft:l'iS:;4%J 

SyjS'v^f^ll 


Fig.  18.  Diagram  to  show  the  layers  of  cells  and  fibres  in  the  grey 
matter  of  the  human  cerebral  cortex,  according  to  three  histo- 
logical  methods:  (a)  Golgi;  (b)  Nissl;  (c)  We^gert. 

From  Luciani 


NEURITES  AND  DENDRITES 

first  spoken  of.  Here  it  also  ends  in  several  branches, 
one  of  which  is  in  contact  with  a  dendrite  which  is  very 
short  and  whose  cell  body  lies  close  at  hand  but  whose 
neurite  passes  out  thru  the  spinal  cord  and  all  the  way 
down  to  the  muscle  of  the  great  toe.  Thus  the  stimulus 
from  the  pressure  on  the  toe  has  travelled  over  this  entire 
system  and  finally  produces  the  movement  of  the  toe. 

It  should  be  carefully  noted  that,  whereas  we  have 
shown  that  at  each  point  where  one  neuron  comes  in  con- 
nection with  another  tlie  neurokyme  has  taken  a  particular 
path,  yet  at  each  such  point  there  are  many  possibilities, 
and  innumerable  other  paths  might  have  been  followed. 
For  example,  the  stimulus  that  we  described  as  leading  to 
a  movement  of  the  toe  might  by  following  other  paths 
have  led  to  an  exclamation,  or  to  a  movement  of  the  hand 
to  remove  the  stimulus,  or  to  any  one  of  almost  innumer- 
able responses.  Fig.  17  will  give  the  reader  a  further  ap- 
preciation of  the  complexity  of  neuron  arrangement  and 
the  possibilities  for  different  paths. 

The  reader  must  understand  that  in  making  these  pic- 
tures of  parts  of  an  actual  brain  it  is  necessary  to  stain 
the  different  structures  and  that  no  one  dye  stains  all  the 
parts  alike.  Consequently  it  is  necessary  to  use  one  stain 
for  the  dendrites  and  another  for  the  cell  bodies  and 
different  stains  bring  out  different  cell  bodies  in  different 
ways.  In  Fig.  18  we  have  three  sections  from  the  same 
region  prepared  in  three  different  ways.  The  right  hand 
third  shows  the  fibres,  the  middle  and  left  hand  parts  show 
different  kinds  of  cell  bodies.  These  should  really  all  be 
superposed  except  that  the  section  would  thus  become 
so  complicated  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  see  anything 
at  all. 

We  must  now  return  and  consider  our  statement  that 

[11] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  ten  thousand  million  neurons  are  divided  into  groups 
each  having  its  own  rate  of  growth  and  its  own  function, 
or  work  to  do.  Let  us  consider  the  latter  part  first — the 
work  to  be  done  by  each  group.  As  is  well  known,  we  use 
the  brain  to  hear  with,  to  see  with,  to  have  sensations  of 
pressure,  to  move  various  parts  of  the  body  and,  as  we 
say,  to  think  with.  There  is  one  group  of  neurons  that 
has  particularly  to  do  with  seeing.  The  cortical  cells  that 
have  to  do  with  seeing  are  located  at  the  very  back  of 
the  brain  in  the  occipital  lobes.  Those  that  have  to  do 
with  hearing  are  located  in  the  temporal  lobes,  parts  of 
the  cerebrum  lying  at  the  sides  directly  under  the  tem- 
ples; and  so  on  with  the  various  other  functions  that  will 
be  best  understood  by  a  study  of  the  diagram,  Fig.  19. 

This  mapping,  in  the  brain,  of  the  different  functions 
is  called  brain  localization,  that  is,  the  different  mental 
experiences  are  localized  in  definite  areas  or  "centres" 
of  the  brain.  It  will  be  noted  that  there  are  large  areas 
here  that  have  no  functions  assigned.  Of  these  we  shall 
have  to  speak  later  for  they  are  of  very  great  importance. 
We  may  call  attention  at  this  point  to  the  fact  that  all 
these  different  areas  are  connected  by  what  are  called 
association  neurons,  that  is,  they  connect  or  associate  one 
part  of  the  brain  with  another.  Some  idea  of  this  will 
be  obtained  from  Fig.  20,  which  shows  the  fibres  (but  not 
the  cell  bodies)  connecting  one  part  of  the  brain  with  an- 
other by  various  pathways.  Besides  this  localization  of 
function  in  different  surface  areas  of  the  brain,  it  has 
been  found  that  structurally  it  is  possible  to  divide  the 
cortex  into  layers  and  recently.it  has  been  suggested  that 
these  different  layers  have  different  functions.  The  fol- 
lowing quotation  from  Her  rick  (23,  p.  289)  will  show  the 
theory. 

[12] 


Fig1.  19.  The  human  cerebral  hemisphere  seen  from  the  left  side, 
upon  which  the  functional  areas  of  tiie  cortex  are  indicated. 
This  is  brain  localization.  Xote  the  large  areas  where  no 
function  is  marked.  These  are  the  association  areas. 

From  Herrick  after  Starr 


Fig.  20.  Diagram  illustrating  some  of  the  chief  association  tracts- 
of  the  cerebral  hemisphere.  Note  how  every  part  is  connected 
with  every  other  part  of  the  brain. 

From  Herrick 


NEURON  LAYERS  IN  CORTEX 

"  Several  English  neurologists,  notably  Bolton,  from 
studies  on  the  development  and  adult  structure  of  the  cor- 
tex in  normal  and  abnormal  men  and  in  other  mammals, 
have  been  led  to  the  conclusion  that,  in  addition  to  the 
mosaic  localization  pattern  of  which  we  have  been  speak- 
ing, there  is  a  functional  difference  between  the  different 
layers  of  neurons  of  the  cortex  in  general.  Bolton  be- 
lieves that  the  granular  layer  marks  an  important  bound- 
ary between  functionally  different  cortical  mechanisms. 
The  infragranular  portion  of  the  cortex  is  thot  to  be  con- 
cerned especially  with  the  performance  of  the  simpler 
sensori-motor  reactions,  particularly  those  of  the  instinct- 
ive type,  while  the  supragranular  layers  serve  the  higher 
associations  manifested  by  the  capacity  to  learn  by  indi- 
vidual experience  and  to  develop  the  intellectual  life. 

1 '  The  infragranular  layers  mature  earlier  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  brain,  and  they  are  the  last  to  suffer  degen- 
eration in  the  destruction  of  cortical  cells  in  the  acute  de-. 
mentias  or  insanities.  The  supragranular  layers  (no- 
tably the  pyramidal  neurons  of  Brodmann's  third  layer) 
mature  later  than  any  other  layers.  They  are  thinner 
in  lower  animals  and  in  feeble-minded  and  imbecile  men 
than  in  the  normal  man,  and  they  are  the  first  to  show  de- 
generative changes  in  dementia. 

"This  doctrine  is  controverted  by  some  other  neurol- 
ogists, but  the  evidence  seems  to  show  that  the  supragran- 
ular pyramidal  neurons  are  physiologically  the  most  im- 
portant elements  in  the  higher  associative  processes  of 
the  cortex.  In  this  connection  it  is  significant  that  the 
granular  and  infragranular  layers  are  thicker  in  the  pro- 
jection centres,  while  in  the  association  centres  the  supra- 
granular  layers  of  pyramidal  cells  are  thicker.  But  all 
of  the  layers  in  each  region  are  very  intimately  related, 

[13] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  processes  of  most  of  the  cells  of  the  deeper  layers  ex- 
tending thruout  the  thickness  of  the  more  superficial 
layers  to  reach  the  most  superficial  layer,  and  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  our  knowledge  a  functional  difference  between 
the  layers  cannot  be  said  to  have  been  established,  save  in 
very  general  terms. ' ' 

We  must  now  return  to  our  other  statement  that  these 
different  groups  of  neurons  grow  at  different  rates  and 
mature  at  different  times.  It  is  obvious  that  the  particu- 
lar mental  process  that  is  to  result  from  the  function- 
ing of  any  particular  group  of  cells  cannot  manifest  itself 
until  that  group  of  neurons  is  developed.  For  example, 
a  person  could  not  see  until  the  neurons  in  the  sight  cen- 
tre 'had  reached  their  complete  development.  Many  ani- 
mals are  born  blind.  Their  eyes  do  not  open  for  several 
days  after  they  are  born.  This  is  because  the  eye  mech- 
anism, probably  including  the  cortical  cells  of  the  brain,  is 
not  ready  for  the  stimulus  of  light.  When  it  is  ready 
the  eyelids  open  and  the  animal  sees.  We  shall  find  this 
principle  playing  a  very  important  role  in  our  later  con- 
sideration of  the  mental  processes.  Fig.  21,  A  and  B, 
will  be  found  instructive  in  this  connection  as  showing 
what  one  investigator  has  considered  the  order  in  which 
the  various  centres  of  the  brain  come  to  maturity  and  to 
complete  functioning.  This  growth  to  complete  maturity 
may  be  by  one  of  several  means,  perhaps  by  an  extension 
of  the  neurite  and  dendrite,  or  by  the  growth  of  the  little 
branches  at  the  ends  so  that  the  neuron  can  come  in  con- 
tact with  other  neurons. 

By  reference  to  Fig.  13  A,  it  will  be  seen  that  if  the 
right  hand  neuron  is  the  normal,  fully  developed  form,  a 
neuron  like  any  one  of  those  to  the  left  of  this  would  not 

[14] 


(771 


Fig.  21.  A,  B,  Lateral  and  median  views  of  the  human  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres, to  illustrate  the  sequence  of  maturity  of  the  myelinated 
fibres  of  the  cortex  during  the  development  of  the  brain,  according 
to  Flechsig's  observations.  The  numbers  indicate  approximately 
the  order  in  which  the  different  parts  of  the  cortex  acquire  their  ma- 
ture fibres.  Areas  1-12  (double  cross  hatched)  constitute  the  pri- 
mordial region  and  include  the  olfactory  area  (1,  3,  4  and  4a),  the 
somesthetic  area  (2,  2b,  2c,  and  8),  the  visual  area  (7  and  7b)  and 
the  gustatory  area  (4b  and  6).  The  remainder  of  the  cortex  is 
made  up  of  association  centres,  of  which  there  are  two  groups,  those 
which  mature  soon  after  birth  (lightly  shaded  areas  13-28)  and 
the  terminal  areas  (unshaded  areas  28-36)  which  are  the  last  to 
mature,  and  whose  development  may  continue,  according  to  Kaes, 
to  the  forty-fifth  year  of  life. 

From  Herrick  after  Lewandotvsky 


MEDULLARY  SHEATH 

have  as  complete  connection  with  the  other  neurons  in 
the  system  and  so  would  not  be  as  able  to  receive  or  to 
transmit  the  neurokyme  necessary  to  do  its  work.  A  per- 
son, therefore,  with  any  group  of  neurons  in  the  condition 
of  these  earlier  ones,  would  be  more  or  less  deficient  in 
whatever  function  was  carried  on  by  that  group. 

Besides  being  incomplete  in  size,  neurons  may  also  be 
incomplete  in  medullation.  Each  neurite  and  den- 
drite  is  surrounded  by  a  covering  known  as  its  medullary 
sheath  or  medullation.  Many  neurons  do  not  get  this 
sheath  until  sometime  after  they  have  otherwise  attained 
their  maturity  and  it  is  believed  that  in  the  cerebro- 
spinal  nervous  system  the  neuron  does  not  function,  that 
is  do  its  work,  until  it  gets  that  sheath.  Consequently, 
neurons  that  have  not  yet  developed  the  medullary  sheath 
could  not  do  their  work.  The  function  that  was  to  be  per- 
formed by  that  group  would  therefore  be  lacking.  Flech- 
sig  (16)  has  shown  (Fig.  22  A  and  B)  that  the  child  at 
birth  has  compa.ratively  few  medullated  neurons  in  the 
whole  brain  but  the  medullation  of  certain  fundamental 
tracts  takes  place  very  rapidly  so  that  in  a  few  hours, 
days  or  weeks  there  is  a  large  amount  of  medullation. 
As  we  watch  the  child  and  see  him  develop  and  note  his 
ever  increasing  mental  capacity,  we  may  easily  imagine 
that  new  groups  of  neurons  are  becoming  medullated. 

The  neurons  have  been  divided  into  afferent  and  ef- 
ferent, sometimes  called  sensory  and  motor.  More  re- 
cently they  are  spoken  of  as  receptors  and  effectors. 
Whatever  terminology  is  adopted  we  understand  that 
there  is  one  group,  the  sensory  neurons,  or  receptors  that 
receive  impressions  (stimuli) ;  there  is  another  group  that 
stimulate  the  muscles  to  action ;  these  are  the  motor  neu- 
rons or  the  effectors,  and  the  system  is  so  organized  that 

[15] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

we  find  it  convenient  to  conceive  that  the  goal  of  every 
stimulus  is  a  muscle,  that  is,  the  circuit  is  complete  when 
the  energy  that  is  started  inward  by  the  stimulus  passes 
outward  to  a  muscle.  We  shall  see  later  that  this  goal  is 
sometimes  reached  very  quickly  by  a  direct  pathway,  at 
other  times  by  a  very  circuitous,  round-about  way.  We 
shall  also  see  that  the  more  intelligent  the  being  the  more 
of  this  latter  form  of  action  we  find. 

Specific  Stimuli. — While  there  are  a  great  many  neu- 
rons ready  to  receive  impressions  or  stimuli  and  there  are 
many  kinds  of  stimuli  to  be  applied,  yet  each  different 
group  of  neurons  responds  only  to  its  particular  group 
of  stimuli.  The  different  receptors  are  modified  for  the 
purpose  of  reacting  each  to  its  specific  stimulus.  For  in- 
stance, the  neurons  that  are  in  connection  with  the  visual 
centre  of  the  cortex  are  modified  to  receive  the  stimula- 
tion of  light.  This  special  modification  gives  rise  to  what 
we  know  as  the  retina  of  the  eye.  Similarly  we  have  a 
special  modification  for  receiving  the  stimuli  of  wave  mo- 
tions in  air  which  make  sound.  The  ear  does  not  respond 
to  light,  nor  the  eye  to  sound.  Likewise  we  have  special 
modifications  in  the  skin  for  the  sense  of  touch,  in  the 
nose  for  odours,  in  the  tongue  for  taste.  The  structure 
and  anatomy  of  these  different  end  organs  will  be  found 
in  the  proper  books. 

Not  only  does  each  group  of  neurons  have  its  specific 
stimulus,  but  it  is  dependent  upon  such  stimulation  for  its 
development.  When  the  end  organs  such  as  eye  or  ear 
have  been  destroyed  in  early  life  by  disease,  it  is  found 
that  the  corresponding  area  of  the  cortex  does  not  de- 
velop. Donaldson  found  from  a  study  of  the  brain  of 
the  blind  deaf  mute  Laura  Bridgman  that  the  cortex  was 

[16] 


Fig.  22.  A,  section  thru  brain  of  child  in  the  second  week  of  life, 
showing  medullated  tibres  (deep  black)  extending  from  visual 
area  to  contrai  portion. 


Oyrus  centrala  posterior.  •-...._ 


Cyrus  centralis  anterior.  _^ 


tiutcu*  centralis  Rolandi. 


frnntnlis  inferior .          / 
Fossa  certbri  laterally  ( 


^   ", 


Oyrus  temporali*  tram- 
v«r»its  anterior. 


Fig.  22.  B,  similar  section  of  brain  of  child  at  end  of  second 
month  of  life,  showing  medullated  tracts  in  auditory  area  and 
in  the  sensori-motor  region.  In  both  A  and  B  note  the  large 
areas  as  yet  unmedullated. 

Barker  after  Flechsig 


LAUEA  BRIDGMAN'S  BRAIN 

noticeably  thin  in  those  areas  corresponding  to  the  senses 
which  had  been  lost.  Laura  Bridgman  was  a  normal 
child  who,  as  a  result  of  a  severe  attack  of  scarlet  fever 
at  the  age  of  two  years  became  deaf  and  blind ;  and  taste 
and  smell  were  also  impaired.  She  lived  to  be  sixty 
years  old.  At  autopsy  the  brain  showed  various  abnor- 
malities. Later  it  was  carefully  studied  by  Donaldson 
( 13 ) .  The  thickness  of  the  cortex  was  carefully  measured 
in  fourteen  different  regions  in  each  hemisphere  and  com- 
pared with  the  average  normal  thickness  found  by  meas- 
uring homologous  areas  in  nine  normal  brains. 

Fig.  23  shows  the  result.  The  deviations  from  normal 
are  greatest  in  the  sight  centres,  in  the  hearing  centres 
and  centres  for  taste  and  smell.  The  nearest  agreement 
with  the  normal  is  found  in  the  " touch"  centre,  centre 
for  head  movements  and  other  centres  not  so  definitely 
located  but  which  are  probably  motor  centres.  A  very 
striking  bit  of  evidence  is  seen  in  the  difference  between 
the  sight  centres  of  the  right  and  left  hemispheres.  The 
cortex  is  much  thinner  in  the  sight  centre  of  the  right 
hemisphere  than  in  that  of  the  left.  On  referring  to  the 
history  of  her  life  it  is  found  that  while  she  was  blind  in 
the  left  eye  at  two  years  she  had  some  sight  in  the  right 
eye  until  she  was  eight  years  old.  The  optic  nerves 
cross,  hence  this  thin  right  hemisphere  corresponds  to 
blindness  in  left  eye,  and  the  better  developed 
left  hemisphere  corresponds  to  partial  sight  in  right  eye 
until  eight  years  of  age.  The  evidence  seems  conclusive 
that  the  centres  of  the  brain  not  stimulated  did  not  de- 
velop. 

Summary. — We  have  now  laid  out  very  schematically, 

[17] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

and  yet  it  is  to  be  hoped  with  sufficient  clearness,  the 
plan  of  the  nervous  system.  The  facts  that  are  important 
for  our  further  understanding  of  mental  processes  are  the 
following : 

1.  The  brain  grows  to  the  age  of  approximately  twenty 
years. 

2.  It  not  only  grows  in  bulk  but  it  grows  in  complexity. 

3.  There  are  a  great  many  different  groups  of  neurons, 
each  having  its  own  function,  its  own  rate  of  growth. 

4.  There  is  a  very  elaborate  system  of  intercommuni- 
cation between  these  neurons,  so  that  every  part  of  the 
brain  is  connected  with  every  other  part. 

5.  Because  these  neurons  grow  at  different  rates  and 
come  to  maturity  at  different  times,  the  different  phases 
of  the  mind  are  developed  at  different  rates  and  at  dif- 
ferent times. 

6.  There  is  an  incoming  and  an  outgoing  movement  of 
the  nerve  energy. 

7.  Each  group  of  neurons  has  its  specific  stimulus  and 
cannot  be  aroused  to  activity  by  any  other  stimulus. 

We  are  now  ready  to  understand  what  we  mean  by 
mind,  first,  in  its  simple  processes  and  then,  as  it  gradu- 
ally develops,  in  its  more  complex  processes. 


[18] 


3  ram. 


3  mm* 


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Fig.  23.  Curves  showing  the  thickness  of  the  cortex  in  fourteen 
different  areas  of  each  hemisphere  of  the  brain  of  Laura 
Bridgman  in  comparison  with  the  average  thickness  of  similar 
areas  from  ten  normal  brains.  Figures  at  the  side  represent 
millimeters  (and  tenths)  of  thickness.  Note  that  the  cortex  is 
thin  in  the  areas  corresponding  to  the  lost  senses;  and  nearly 
normal  in  the  other  areas.  Compare  also  the  sight  areas  of 
the  two  hemispheres.  (See  text.) 

From  Donaldson 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MIND 

IN  the  previous  chapter  we  have  given  a  brief  outline  of 
the  mechanism  of  the  nervous  system  from  which  the 
student  will  understand  something  of  the  machinery  which 
underlies  mind. 

Our  next  step  is  to  try  to  see  how  the  development  of 
mind  follows  the  growth  of  the  nervous  system.  Some- 
thing is  known  of  the  development  of  the  nervous  system 
and  something  is  known  of  the  development  of  mind. 
Our  problem  is  to  fit  the  two  together  to  make  as  complete 
a  picture  as  possible.  We  have  two  parts  to  our  task: 
First,  a  consideration  of  the  facts  of  nervous  system 
and  of  mind ;  second,  a  consideration  of  such  logical  infer- 
ences as  may  be  deduced  from  the  facts.  These  deduc- 
tions will  enable  us  to  form  concepts  from  which  further 
facts  may  be  predicted.  Certain  facts  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem enable  us  to  formulate  certain  concepts  in  regard  to 
mind  and  vice  versa. 

We  will  now  consider  the  functions  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem in  the  course  of  its  development. 

When  a  stimulus  to  the  peripheral  system,  such  as  a 
pressure  or  a  ray  of  light  or  a  sound  wave,  is  applied  to 
any  sensory  dendrite,  the  nerve  fibre  is  affected  in  such  a 
way  that  some  kind  of  transmission  of  energy  takes  place. 
This  energy  reaches  the  cell  body  and  there  liberates  the 
stored  up  energy  of  the  cell  which  passes  on  thru  the  neu- 
rite.  It  may  then  reach  the  nearby  dendrite  of  some  other 

[19] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

neuron  and  the  process  be  repeated.  This  energy,  called 
neurokyme,  is  thus  transmitted  until  it  finally  passes  into 
a  neurite  which  is  in  contact  with  a  muscle  and  produces 
a  contraction  of  that  muscle.  The  nature  of  this  energy 
for  which  we  have  adopted  the  suggested  term  neuro- 
kyme (nerve  wave)  is  still  a  matter  of  dispute.  Accord- 
ing to  some  it  is  physical — in  the  nature  of  an  electrical 
transmission ;  according  to  others  it  is  chemical.  It  may 
be  both.  The  term  neurokyme  must  be  understood  as 
standing  merely  for  a  wave  of  energy  passing  thru  the 
neuron — not  that  any  substance  passes  from  one  neuron 
to  another. 

There  are  infinite  possibilities  of  connection  between 
all  the  different  individuals  of  the  ten  thousand  million 
nerve  cells, — or  such  of  them  as  are  sufficiently  developed 
to  function.  The  simplest  illustration  of  this  is  shown  in 
Fig.  24,  and  may  illustrate  what  takes  place  in  a  simple 
reflex  such,  for  instance,  as  the  well  known  patella  reflex 
or  knee  jerk;  the  stimulus,  applied  in  the  form  of  a  slight 
tap  upon  the  nerve  endings  in  the  tendon,  is  transmitted 
to  a  cell  body  which  is  located  just  outside  the  spinal  cord 
in  a  group  of  cell  bodies  known  as  a  spinal  ganglion. 
The  neurite  of  this  cell  is  within  the  spinal  cord  near  or 
in  contact  with  the  dendrite  of  another  cell  which  is  thus 
stimulated.  That  cell  body  in  turn  is  made  to  discharge 
its  energy,  which  passes  out  over  the  neurite  ending  in 
a  muscle  which  causes  the  foot  to  kick.  This,  as  stated, 
is  the  simplest  type  of  action  known  in  the  human  body. 
From  this  simple  circuit  we  progress  to  combinations  so 
extensive,  elaborate  and  complicated  that  no  one  can 
trace  them. 

It  must  be  understood  that  while  the  afferent  or  sen- 
sory neuron  is  shown  here  in  connection  with  only  the 

[20] 


Sensory  nern 


Spiriai  ganyl. 


-  AM.  root 


MoU*  ntrn 


Fig.  24.  Section  of  spinal  cord  showing  .simple  reflex  are  from 
skin  to  muscle. 


THE  NEURON  PATTERN 

nearest  motor  neuron,  in  reality  it  has  many  branches 
and  each  branch  may  be  in  direct  connection  with  another 
motor  neuron,  or  there  may  be  several  or  many  inter- 
mediate neurons  before  the  final  motor  neuron  is  reached. 
Thus  the  energy,  started  in  the  sensory  neuron  by  the 
origial  stimulus,  has  the  possibility  of  travelling  any  one 
of  a  countless  number  of  different  paths.  We  shall  here- 
after speak  of  the  group  of  neurons  followed  in  any  par- 
ticular case  as  the  neuron  pattern. 

The  classic  experiment  with  the  pithed  frog  well  illus- 
trates not  only  some  of  the  possibilities  but  the  order  fol- 
lowed. A  frog  is  chloroformed  and  the  spinal  cord  is 
cut  behind  the  brain,  thus  removing  all  conscious  or  un- 
conscious brain  control.  A  drop  of  acid  is  now  placed  on 
the  skin  of  the  right  side  just  in  front  of  the  hind  leg. 
Immediately  the  right  hind  leg  moves  to  wipe  off  the 
acid  (remove  the  stimulus).  Hold  that  leg  and  the  other 
hind  leg  moves  to  the  same  end;  hold  this  and  the  right 
fore  leg  takes  up  the  action ;  hold  this  and  the  left  fore 
leg  moves  in  the  same  way.  Apparently  we  can  trace 
the  course  of  the  energy  thru  the  different  paths.  When 
the  right  hind  leg  muscle  contracts,  the  neuron  pattern 
followed  is  the  simple  one  pictured  in  Fig.  21.  In  the 
second  case  the  neurokyme  flows  across  the  segment  of 
the  cord  and  out  over  the  motor  neuron  to  the  muscle  of 
the  left  hind  leg.  Thirdly,  the  neurokyme  flows  up  the 
cord  on  the  right  side  to  the  fore  leg  segment  and  out 
to  the  muscle  of  the  right  fore  leg.  Lastly,  all  these 
proving  unavailable,  it  goes  up  the  cord  and  across  to 
the  motor  neuron  leading  to  the  muscle  of  the  left  fore 
leg.  All  these  (and  many  other  possibilities)  are  pure 
reflexes. 

In  man  all  these  reflexes  and  many  more  occur.  More- 

[21] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

over,  it  is  but  a  step  to  a  most  important  phenomenon. 
Sometimes  the  neurokyme  flows  on  up  the  cord  thru  the 
medulla  to  the  cortex.  Then  consciousness  may  result. 
See  Fig.  25  A  and  B.  We  shall  consider  that  later. 

The  reader  may  ask  why  there  is  this  multiplicity  of 
neurons  in  a  path  instead  of  a  single  neuron  extending 
from  the  stimulus  directly  to  the  muscle  to  be  moved. 
The  answer  is  two-fold :  first,  a  saving  of  nerve  material ; 
and  second,  a  saving  of  nerve  energy. 

For  the  first  let  us  take  the  telephone  as  an  illustration. 
If  six  homes  are  to  be  connected  by  single  wires  we 
should  have  something  like  Fig.  26  A.  But  if  a  single 
relay  station  or  switchboard  is  introduced  we  have  the 
much  simplified  26  B. 

For  the  saving  of  energy  we  may  take  our  illustration 
from  the  telegraph.  Almost  every  one  understands  that 
telegraphy  is  a  system  of  clicks  on  an  instrument  which 
is  actuated  by  electricity.  The  apparatus  necessary  is  a 
galvanic  battery,  wires,  a  telegraph  sounder  and  a  key 
for  making  and  breaking  the  circuit.  If  the  key  is  open 
(circuit  disconnected)  the  sounder  is  up.  When  the  key 
is  pressed  down  (closed)  the  circuit  is  closed,  the  cur- 
rent passing  along  the  wire  makes  the  magnet  pull  the 
sounder  down  causing  the  click.  The  key  may  be  in  one 
city  and  the  sounder  in  another ;  the  only  thing  necessary 
is  to  have  the  wires  lengthened  to  reach  between  the  cities. 
But,  few  people  understand  that  in  practice  this  is  not 
exactly  the  situation.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  elec- 
trical energy  is  lost  as  it  passes  over  miles  of  wire  and 
the  cells  of  battery  which  would  operate  a  telegraph  sys- 
tem from  one  room  to  another,  or  from  one  building  to 
another  one  nearby,  would  not  operate  it  if  the  key, 
sounder  and  battery  were  miles  apart,  for  the  reason 

[22] 


- ..SPINAL 

GANG  LI  ON 


Fig.  25.  A,  diagram  of  the  simplest  possible  reflex  arc  from  epi- 
dermis thru  cerebral  cortex  to  striped  muscle.  The  arc  as 
drawn  involves  four  neurons.  According  to  some,  there  is 
another  synapse  between  E  and  the  cortex  (see  B).  There 
may  be  intermediate  neurons  in  the  cortex,  forming  links  be- 
tween the  afferent  neuron  E  and  the  efferent  neuron  A. 


cerebral 


cortex 


tricjeminal  lemmscus 
sKin 


medial  lemmscus 


nucleus  of  dorsal 

funiculus 


spinal  lemniscus 


ventral  pyramidal 
tract 


dorsal  funtculus 
lateral  pyramidal  tract 
spinal  cj  an  g  lion 
sKin 

muscle 

Fig.  25.  B,  similar  to  A  but  showing  the  extra  synapse  in  the 
thalamus  and  showing  the  pyramidal  tract  (motor,  efferent)  — 
heavy  line — part  of  which  crosses  over  as  do  most  tracts  from 
left  side  of  the  brain  to  right  side  of  cord;  and  another  part 
which  does  not  cross.  The  latter  is  known  as  the  direct 
pyramidal  tract. 


2  5 


£-2 


if. 


as    C 


NEURON  PATTERNS 

that  the  battery  would  not  be  strong  enough.  Increasing 
the  size  of  the  battery  offers  only  a  partial  solution. 
The  difficulty  is  obviated  by  the  use  of  what  is  known  as 
a  relay.  The  relay  is  an  electro-magnet  with  an  arma- 
ture so  delicately  balanced  that  it  requires  only  an  exceed- 
ingly small  current  to  move  it.  The  electric  current, 
which  would  not  move  the  telegraph  sounder  sufficiently 
to  make  any  sound  whatever,  will  actuate  the  relay.  The 
relay  throws  into  the  circuit  a  local  battery  which  will 
actuate  the  local  sounder.  If  it  is  a  question  of  tele- 
graphing a  long  distance,  the  relay  throws  into  circuit  an- 
other length  of  wire  and  another  battery  which  will 
work  for  a  certain  number  of  miles,  throw  in  another 
relay,  and  so  on  across  the  country,  sounders  being 
placed  wherever  they  are  wanted. 

This  will  be  easily  understood  from  the  accompanying 
diagram,  Fig.  27,  and  it  is  only  necessary  to  change  the 
name  to  make  this  illustrate  what  may  be  assumed  to  be 
the  operation  of  nerve  energy  in  the  nervous  system. 
Call  each  battery  a  cell  body,  each  bit  of  wire  a  nerve 
fibre  and  each  relay  a  synapse  or  point  where  one  nerve 
fibre  either  touches  or  comes  so  close  to  another  nerve 
fibre  that  the  energy  passes  across  and  so  sets  the  new 
cell  body  into  activity.  In  some  such  way  apparently 
nerve  energy  is  transmitted  thruout  the  nervous  system. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  all  that  we  actually  know 
about  this  in  the  nervous  system  is  the  fact  that  there 
are  these  elements,  the  neurons  with  their  cell  bodies  and 
projecting  fibres,  and  the  fact  that  energy  is  transmitted 
and  that  movements  result  from  the  stimuli. 

Neuron  Patterns.— On  page  12  we  set  forth  the  gen- 
erally accepted  facts  of  brain  localization,  that  is,  that 
one  part  of  the  cortex  gives  rise  to  consciousness  of  sight, 

[23] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

another  to  hearing,  another  to  taste,  another  to  smell, 
another  to  skin  sensations,  etc.  In  the  immediately  pre- 
ceding pages  we  have  developed  the  idea  that  the  sim- 
plest possible  neuron  action,  that  of  two  neurons,  sen- 
sory and  motor,  gives  rise  to  a  simple  reflex  act.  It  has 
also  been  stated  that  this  separate  act  may  be  complicated 
by  the  inclusion  of  more  neurons.  We  have  shown  a  sim- 
ple cortical  path  in  which  there  were  four  neurons  in- 
volved (Fig.  25). 

All  the  foregoing  as  well  as  the  evolution  of  the  nerv- 
ous system  as  we  go  up  the  animal  series  warrant  us  in 
concluding  that  the  fewer  the  neurons  involved,  the 
simpler  the  action ;  and  the  more  neurons,  the  more  com- 
plex the  action ;  and  we  may  safely  assume  that  when  we 
are  considering  consciousness,  the  same  relation  holds — a 
fairly  simple  neuron  pattern  will  underlie  a  fairly 
simple  state  of  consciousness,  a  more  elaborate  state 
of  consciousness  will  be  dependent  upon  a  more  elab- 
orate neuron  pattern.  To  make  this  clear  we  picture  the 
accompanying  hypothetical  neuron  patterns ;  Figs.  28  to 
31,  some  simple,  some  more  complex  and  some  rather 
highly  complex. 

The  reader  must  understand  that,  while  these  pictures 
are  actual  drawings  of  sections  of  the  cortex,  our  use 
of  them  to  illustrate  neuron  patterns  is  purely  hypothet- 
ical and  made  simply  to  enable  us  to  have  some  kind  of 
mental  picture  of  what  may  be  the  brain  condition  for 
various  states  of  thot  and  mental  processes 

Consciousness. — Mind  is  almost  universally  considered 
as  in  some  way  synonymous  with  consciousness.  Yet 
psychology  has  been  compelled  always  to  go  somewhat  be- 
yond the  limits  of  consciousness  in  attempting  to  explain 
mental  phenomena.  Long  ago  popular  usage  developed 

[24] 


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Fig.  30.  Illustrating  a  relatively  complex  neuron  pattern.  The 
widely  branching  sensory  neuron  (marked  e)  is  seen  reach- 
ing to  many  different  types  of  association  and  motor  neurons. 

From  Edinger 


IV I -TO  i         / 


Fig.  31.  B,   detail  of  A.     Section  of  cortex  showing  the  multi- 
plicity of  possible  patterns. 

From  Cajal 


CONSCIOUSNESS 

the  term  unconscious  mind  to  explain  certain  phenomena 
that  were  not  conscious  and  yet  to  the  layman  seemed  to 
be  so  much  a  part  of  mind  as  to  deserve  to  be  designated 
in  this  way.  The  term  unconscious  mind  is  of  course  a 
ridiculous  contradiction.  More  recently  scientists  have 
gotten  around  this  absurdity  of  terminology  by  speaking 
of  "the  unconscious"  or  "the  sub-conscious."  The 
study  of  the  behaviour  of  animals  and  of  man  gets  away 
from  this  difficulty  by  saying  nothing  about  consciousness 
but  putting  all  the  emphasis  upon  the  behaviour. 

It  seems  clear  that  whatever  be  the  difficulties  of  ter- 
minology they  must  be  somehow  surmounted,  because 
psychology  must  deal  with  all  the  phenomena  that  result 
from  nerve  action,  whether  they  be  conscious  or  not. 
The  figure  of  the  iceberg  has  been  used  as  a  suggestive  il- 
lustration of  the  true  status  of  things;  just  as  seven- 
eighths  of  the  iceberg  is  below  the  surface  and  out  of  sight 
and  only  one-eighth  is  visible,  so  there  is  a  great  sub- 
merged element  which  is  part  and  parcel  of  what  we  call 
mind,  and  our  preference  for  applying  the  term  mind  to 
the  visible  part  only,  must  not  blind  us  to  the  existence 
of  the  other  part  or  to  the  importance  of  understanding 
it  in  order  to  know  fully  about  the  visible  part, 

Starting  then  with  nerve  action,  we  found  the  simplest 
mechanism  in  what  is  known  as  the  reflex-arc.  We  have 
seen  that  Fig.  21  shows  the  simplest  form  of  this  nerve 
action.  It  represents  (1)  the  organ  for  receiving  the 
stimulus,  for  example,  the  skin,  or  tendon;  (2)  the  sen- 
sory neuron  whose  cell  body  is  in  the  spinal  ganglion  and 
whose  neurite  passes  into  the  posterior  part  of  the  spinal 
cord  and  crosses  over  on  the  same  level  to  the  anterior 
side  where  it  comes  in  contact  with  (3)  a  motor  neuron 
thru  which  the  neurokyme  flows  out  directly  to  (4)  the 

[25] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

organ  involved,  the  muscle.  Here  we  have  only  two  neu- 
rons, the  stimulation  of  the  sensory  or  afferent  neuron 
leads  directly  to  the  movement  of  the  muscle  thru  the 
motor  or  efferent  neuron. 

From  this  simple  beginning  we  shall  find  the  mechanism 
for  most  elaborate  extensions  increasing  the  number  of 
neurons  indefinitely.  This  first  action,  as  pictured  in 
Fig.  21,  is  a  pure  reflex  and  is  believed  to  be  absolutely 
without  consciousness;  but  somewhere  in  the  series,  we 
do  not  at  present  know  where,  consciousness  enters,  and 
we  have  first  a  simple  consciousness  and  then  a  more  elab- 
orate form  and  finally  the  most  elaborate  of  which  the 
mind  of  man  is  capable.  The  various  steps  must  be 
traced  out  as  carefully  and  elaborately  as  our  knowledge 
will  permit. 

We  must  now  consider  briefly  the  advent  of  conscious- 
ness in  relation  to  our  problem.  Reflexes  take  place 
whether  the  person  is  conscious  or  not.  A  child  sound 
asleep  and  entirely  unconscious  will  withdraw  his  foot 
if  it  be  tickled.  While  awake  we  close  the  eyelids  every 
few  seconds  to  wash  the  eye  ball  and  we  are  never  con- 
scious of  doing  so  unless  something  definite  calls  it  to 
our  attention.  It  is  a  reflex  and  as  such  is  normally  un- 
conscious. 

Similarly  a  great  many  functions  and  activities  of  vari- 
ous organs  of  the  body  are  controlled  by  reflexes  and  the 
normal  man  in  good  health  has  no  consciousness  in  regard 
to  them.  On  the  other  hand,  a  loud  noise  or  a  bright  flash 
of  light  in  the  eye  or  pressure  upon  the  skin  produces 
consciousness. 

We  have  already  suggested  that  when  cortical  neurons 
are  involved  in  the  nerve  path  we  get  consciousness. 
Two  cautions  are  here  necessary.  We  are  not  sure  that 

[26]  * 


Sensory  nerve 


Spinal  qamgl. 


Ant.  root 


Motor  nerre 


Muscle 


Fig.  24.   Section  of  spinal  cord  showing  .simple  reflex  arc  from 
skin  to  muscle. 


CONSCIOUSNESS 

all  cortical  action  results  in  consciousness  and  secondly 
the  statement  does  not  necessarily  mean  that  the  cortex 
is  the  "seat  of  consciousness";  but  both  clinical  experi- 
ence and  cortical  structure  make  it  fairly  clear  that  at 
least  there  is  no  consciousness  without  cortical  action. 

Herrick  (23,  p.  291)  says:  "The  higher  mental  proc- 
esses undoubtedly  require  the  activity  of  association  cen- 
tres of  the  cerebral  cortex,  and  the  integrity  of  the  associ- 
ated mechanism  as  a  whole  is  essential  for  their  full  effi- 
ciency. The  cerebral  cortex  differs  from  the  reflex  cen- 
tres of  the  brain  stem  chiefly  in  that  all  of  its  parts  are 
interconnected  by  inconceivably  complex  systems  of  asso- 
ciational  connections,  many  of  which  are  probably  ac- 
quired late  in  life  under  the  influence  of  individual  experi- 
ence, and  any  combination  of  which  may,  under  appropri- 
ate conditions  of  external  excitation  and  internal  physi- 
ological state,  become  involved  in  any  cerebral  process 
whatever." 

Just  how  consciousness  results  from  nerve  action — 
whether  that  action  be  in  the  cortex  or  elsewhere — is  not 
known.  So  little  is  known  in  fact  that  there  are  not  even 
accepted  theories.  Yet  it  may  be  helpful  to  consider 
some  crude  analogies.  We  have  drawn  upon  the  tele- 
phone and  telegraph  for  illustrations  of  nerve  action. 
The  temptation  is  strong  to  see  still  other  analogies. 
When  two  wires  charged  with  a  strong  current  are  con- 
nected by  a  small  wire  or  are  allowed  to  barely  touch  each 
other  the  current,  formerly  imperceptible  to  any  human 
sense,  suddenly  becomes  manifest  as  heat.  May  it  be 
that  two  nerve  fibres  (neurite  and  dendrite)  in  contact  or 
in  close  juxtaposition  make  manifest  the  energy  otherwise 
imperceptible?  If  so  Herrick  has  furnished  us  with  a 
ready  understanding  of  why  * '  consciousness  is  located  in 

[27] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  cortex" — because  of  the  "inconceivably  complex  sys- 
tems of  associational  connections."  In  the  cord  and  in 
the  encephalon  with  the  exception  of  the  cortex  the  con- 
nections are  few  and  simple.  The  ''consciousness"  re- 
sulting from  two  or  even  twenty  neurons  is  too  faint  to  be 
consciousness,  but  when  thousands  are  involved  it  rises 
above  the  threshold. 

The  foregoing  suggestions  are  in  accord  with  existent 
hypotheses.  For  example,  it  has  often  been  suggested 
by  psychologists  who  deal  with  this  phase  of  the  prob- 
lem that  consciousness,  especially  in  the  higher  thot 
processes,  is  in  some  unknown  way  the  result  of  some 
interference  with  the  free  flow  of  the  neurokyme.  On 
the  neurological  side  there  is  some  evidence,  not  yet  con- 
clusive, that  the  nerve  processes,  the  ends  of  the  neurites 
and  dendrites,  have  what  is  called  ameboid  movements, 
that  is,  they  push  out  and  also  contract,  the  former  move- 
ment of  course  bringing  the  various  ends  closer  together, 
enabling  the  neurokyme  to  flow  more  easily,  the  latter 
movement  drawing  them  apart  and  offering  greater 
resistance.  The  following  quotation  from  Herrick  (23, 
p.  104)  states  the  matter  very  concisely  yet  clearly: 

"The  numerous  theories  regarding  the  neurological 
processes  taking  place  in  the  cerebral  cortex  during  the 
progress  of  such  mental  functions  as  attention,  association 
of  ideas,  etc.,  are  likewise  as  yet  entirely  unproved.  It 
has  been  suggested  that  during  cerebral  functions  the  re- 
sistance of  some  pathways  may  be  diminished  by  the  ame- 
boid outgrowth  of  the  dendrites  so  as  to  effect  more  inti- 
mate synaptic  union  with  the  physiologically  related  neu- 
rons, while  the  resistance  of  the  other  paths  may  be  in- 
creased by  the  retraction  of  dendrites  from  their  syn- 
apses. Others  believe  that  the  neuroglia  may  participate 

[28] 


AMEBOID  MOVEMENTS  IN  NEURONS 

in  the  process  by  thrusting  out  ameboid  processes  be- 
tween the  nervous  terminals  in  the  synapses  and  thus  in- 
creasing the  resistance.  Lugaro  has  suggested  a  dif- 
ferent interpretation,  in  accordance  with  which  during 
sleep  there  is  a  generally  diffused  extension  of  all  nerv- 
ous processes,  thus  providing  for  the  uniform  diffusion  of 
incoming  stimuli,  while  in  the  state  of  attention  all  of 
these  processes  retract  save  those  which  are  directed  in 
some  definite  direction,  thus  narrowing  the  stream  of 
nervous  discharge  so  as  to  intensify  it  and  direct  it  into 
the  appropriate  centres.  There  is  no  direct  evidence  for 
any  of  these  theories,  and  the  scientifically  correct  atti- 
tude toward  them  is  frankly  to  admit  that  at  present  we 
do  not  know  what  physiological  processes  are  involved 
in  any  of  these  functions." 

The  view  of  Lugaro  above  referred  to  by  Herrick  would 
seem  to  account  nicely  for  the  difference  between  spinal 
cord  neuron  patterns  and  cerebral  patterns.  It  also  ex- 
plains fairly  well  what  has  been  a  very  difficult  problem ; 
why  so  many  of  our  common  activities,  which  are  at  first 
performed  with  very  decided  consciousness,  later  come  to 
be  performed  with  practically  no  consciousness.  For  ex- 
ample, the  first  time  one  winds  a  watch  he  attends  to  the 
winding  to  the  exclusion  of  practically  everything  else, 
but  he  soon  comes  to  the  point  where  he  winds  it  so  uncon- 
sciously that  he  does  not  know  afterwards  whether  he  has 
wound  it  or  not.  We  could  imagine  that  on  the  first  oc- 
casion he  is  establishing  a  new  neuron  pattern,  and  since 
it  is  new,  the  nerve  endings  have  not  grown  out  into  con- 
tact with  other  nerve  endings  and  consequently  there  is 
considerable  difficulty  in  the  passage  of  the  nerve  energy. 
But  upon  the  second  occasion  these  neurons  are  found  in 
a  little  better  contact,  and  upon  third  and  successive  occa- 

[29] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

sions  still  better,  until  finally  they  are  in  such  close  con- 
tact that  the  stimulus  has  only  to  be  given  by  the  sight  of 
the  watch  or  the  time  of  day  when  it  is  usually  wound  for 
the  whole  process  to  run  smoothly  from  beginning  to  end 
without  any  impediment  or  interrupton  and  consequently 
without  any  noticeable  consciousness. 

Spinal  cord  and  other  inherited  patterns  would  also  be 
explained.  Since  they  underlie  actions  long  since  per- 
fected in  the  history  of  the  race,  those  nerve  endings  de- 
velop of  themselves  into  close  contact  so  that  the  neuro- 
kyme  flows  very  directly  and  with  practically  no  inter- 
ruption. We  shall  see  as  we  come  further  to  consider  the 
sympathetic  system  that  this  view  would  account  for 
the  nerve  action  there  also. 

There  is  a  bit  of  evidence  from  another  field  that  has 
an  interesting  association  with  this  problem.  Green- 
man  (21)  has  shown  that  if  the  peroneal  nerve  of  the  al- 
bino rat  be  severed  and  allowed  to  heal  naturally,  the 
nerve  to  regenerate,  the  result  is  an  enormous  branching 
of  the  nerve  at  the  point  of  section.  He  says  (p.  63) : 

1 '  Following  the  degeneration  in  the  operated  nerve,  re- 
generation, accompanied  by  branches  of  axons,  takes 
place  and  there  is  an  increase  of  from  64  to  249  per  cent 
in  the  number  of  fibres  on  the  proximal  side  of  the  lesion, 
more  than  7,000  fibres  appearing  in  some  cases  just  prox- 
imal to  the  lesion  in  a  nerve  which  should  show  about 
2,300  fibres." 

This  enormous  branching  was  thought  to  be  due  to  the 
intrusion  of  a  large  mass  of  connective  tissue  which 
seemed  to  interfere  with  the  easy  growth  and  regenera- 
tion of  the  nerve.  The  experiment  was  then  tried  of 
surrounding  the  cut  end  of  the  nerve  with  a  celluloid 
tube,  thus  protecting  it  against  the  interference  of  the 

[30] 


ORIGIN  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS 

connective  tissue  and  allowing  it  to  develop  in  a  simple 
way.  The  result  here  was  a  great  reduction  in  the 
branching  and  consequent  number  of  fibres.  The  experi- 
ment was  still  in  progress  at  the  time  of  the  report. 
This  seems  to  indicate  that  operative  interference  with 
the  natural  course  of  the  nerve  results  in  an  enormous 
branching.  Just  as  trees  when  cut  back  increase  the 
number  of  their  branches.  Of  course  this  is  very  re- 
mote from  our  problem  and  is  only  cited  because  it  helps 
one  to  form  a  picture  of  the  way  nerve  fibres  grow  and 
one  may  easily  conceive  that  something  somewhat  analo- 
gous may  happen  in  the  ordinary  development  of  func- 
tions in  neurons. 

We  may  therefore  conclude  from  our  present  knowl- 
edge that  consciousness  is  somehow  connected  with  the 
passage  of  the  neurokyme  from  one  neuron  to  another 
and  that,  since  the  cerebral  cortex  is  the  latest  to  develop 
(therefore  at  any  given  period  most  likely  to  be  incom- 
pletely developed),  and  second,  since  the  number  of  neu- 
rons is  here  inconceivably  greater  than  anywhere  else,  we 
may  very  properly  conclude  that  while  we  may  not  say 
that  the  cortex  is  the  seat  of  consciousness,  at  least  it  is 
of  vital  importance  to  consciousness. 

That  consciousness  develops  and  is  somehow,  some- 
where located  in  the  nervous  system  we  know;  but  if  we 
do  not  know  how  or  where  neither  do  we  know  when.  It 
has  often  been  said  that  we  know  no  consciousness  but  our 
own.  "We  think  we  have  good  reason  for  believing  other 
people  are  conscious  as  well  as  ourselves,  both  because 
they  tell  us  so  and  because  they  act  as  tho  conscious. 
The  latter  however  is  not  always  a  safe  basis  for  the  con- 
clusion. A  person  walking  and  talking  in  his  sleep  may 
appear  fully  conscious  and,  while  it  may  be  true  that  he 

[31] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

is  partially  conscious,  yet  he  surely  is  not  so  conscious  as 
he  seems.  Movement  cannot  be  taken  as  a  criterion  of 
consciousness.  Consequently  when  we  are  considering 
those  who  cannot  talk  and  tell  us,  whether  it  be  the  human 
infant  or  an  animal,  we  find  ourselves  on  very  uncertain 
ground. 

The  infant  is  commonly  assumed  to  be  conscious  as 
soon  as  born  but  of  this  there  is  no  certainty.  He  may 
be  or  he  may  not  be.  His  activities  for  some  time  may 
be  pure  reflexes.  If  we  could  remember  our  life  at  that 
early  period  we  might  have  some  basis  for  a  conclusion, 
but  no  one  can  remember  his  infancy.  There  are  a  few 
people  who  can  remember  as  far  back  as  the  age  of  two, 
but  for  most  persons  little  is  remembered  before  the  age 
of  six,  except  a  few  isolated  experiences.  It  may  further 
be  urged  "if  conscious  at  birth  why  not  before  birth!" 
The  question  is  not  so  absurd  as  it  at  first  appears.  At 
the  middle  of  the  fifth  month  of  fetal  life  occurs  the  phe- 
nomenon of  the  * '  quickening. ' '  This  is  probably  the  first 
reflex.  There  are  still  four  months  or  more  until  birth, 
during  which  time  nerve  fibres  are  getting  medullated  and 
coming  to  function.  At  birth  there  are  a  few  fully  medul- 
lated cortical  fibres  and  since  the  moment  of  birth  cannot 
be  considered  as  producing  any  sudden  change  in  the 
amount  of  medullation,  we  must  assume  that  there  were 
medullated  cortical  fibres  before  birth. 

By  the  foregoing  discussion  we  do  not  mean  to  argue 
either  that  there  is  consciousness  before  birth  or  that 
there  is  none  shortly  after  birth  but  only  to  emphasize 
the  fact  that  no  one  knoius;  and  secondly  to  bring  out  the 
point  that  there  is  clearly  a  gradual  development.  There- 
fore we  may  safely  picture  to  ourselves  a  first  appearance 
of  a  very  simple  reflex,  perhaps  at  the  time  of  quickening, 

[32] 


NEURON  MATURITY 

and  following  this  a  development  of  ever  increasingly 
complex  reflexes :  then  somewhere  in  the  series,  probably 
not  long  after  birth,  the  first  gleams  of  consciousness 
to  be  followed  by  a  more  or  less  gradual  increase  in  com- 
plexity until  we  arrive  at  what  may  be  called  maturity  of 
consciousness,  which  may  be  located  at  the  point  of  physi- 
cal maturity  or  perhaps  should  be  placed  at  the  point  of 
man's  highest  efficiency  just  before  mental  deterioration 
sets  in — the  onset  of  senility. 

The  parallel  development  of  the  nervous  system  is 
probably  complete.  We  have  seen  the  beginnings  of  brain 
and  neuron  development  and  have  found  that  the  brain 
continues  to  increase  in  weight  until  the  twentieth  year  on 
the  average.  Beyond  this  we  cannot  go  and  even  here 
we  are  on  uncertain  ground.  On  the  one  hand  there  may 
be  a  development  of  function  of  the  brain  thruout  life, 
and  on  the  other  hand  increase  of  weight  does  not  neces- 
sarily mean  increase  of  function.  The  limit  of  brain  cell 
development  may  be  reached  some  years  before  twenty. 
On  the  other  hand,  one  authority  claims  that  neurons  may 
develop  until  forty-five.  However,  in  the  midst  of  this 
uncertainty  there  can  be  no  harm  in  assuming  the  age  of 
twenty  as  the  average  time  for  neuron  maturity. 

When  we  assume  twenty  as  the  average  of  matu- 
rity, we,  by  the  very  term  average  imply  that  some  reach 
maturity  later  than  twenty  and  some  earlier,  indeed  we 
believe  that  for  some  it  is  very  much  earlier. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  the  other  side  of  the  picture  and 
see  what  are  the  first  movements  or  reactions  that  we  get 
and  how  these  become  complicated  as  we  go  up  the  scale. 

The  first  movement  of  the  human  being  takes  place  in 
utero  at  about  the  middle  of  the  uterine  period  and  is 
known  technically  as  the  quickening — 4he  time  when  the 

[33] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

child  in  the  womb  first  moves.  This  is  probably  a  reflex 
movement  and  may  indicate  the  first  moment  when  the 
simple  reflex  arc  is  complete,  the  neurons  developed  and 
ready  for  functioning.1 

At  birth  we  have  a  great  extension  of  activity  usually 
considered  reflex,  such  as  crying,  sucking  and  movements 
of  arms  and  legs.  Then  follow  grasping,  eye  co-ordi- 
nation, turning  of  head  and  many  other  movements  all  of 
which  lead  us  to  conclude  not  only  that  the  infant  is  con- 
scious but  that  mind  is  developing. 

It  is  not  necessary  at  this  point  to  enumerate  in  detail 
the  signs  of  mental  development  in  the  child.  They  are 
familiar  to  all.  It  is  sufficient  to  note  that  from  these 
early  beginnings  there  is  a  constant  and  regular  develop- 
ment up  to  maturity. 

One  thing  not  surely  known  is  whether  that  devel- 
opment takes  place  at  a  constant  rate  of  increase,  i.e. 
whether  the  child  mind  normally  develops  as  fast  from 
say  age  6  to  age  7  as  from  2  to  3 :  from  11  to  12  as  from 
8  to  9.  In  other  words  is  the  curve  of  mental  develop- 
ment to  be  represented  by  A,  B,  C,  or  D,  in  the  accom- 
panying diagram  (Fig.  32)  ? 

We  can  only  say  that  it  is  almost  certainly  not  C,  not 
likely  to  be  A,  and  is  probably  either  B  or  D  or  some 
form  of  the  D  plan. 

We  must  next  try  to  picture  to  ourselves  how  this  de- 
velopment of  mind  is  related  to  the  nervous  system  or, 

i  Quickening  may  of  course  have  no  close  connection  with  the  develop- 
ment of  the  nervous  system.  It  may  me_an  that  the  muscle  has  become  suf- 
ficiently developed  so  that  it  can  contract  as  the  result  of  a  general  stimu- 
lation, since  we  know  that  normal  muscle  tissue  from  which  the  nerve 
connections  have  been  removed  may  contract  when  stimulated  either  elec- 
trically or  mechanically.  However,  it  seems  rather  more  natural  to  con- 
clude that  there  is  a  direct  nerve  connection.  These  movements  of  the  fetus 
gradually  increase  until  the  time  of  birth. 

[34] 


*  e 

s  3 

S  01    a, 

•rt    ^.  w 

O  O     § 

•^  <>]   So 


o*  § 

co  C 

SH 

bi. 


SIMPLE  NEURON  PATTERNS 

stated  differently,  what  takes  place  in  the  nervous  system 
as  the  physical  basis  of  each  step  of  mental  attainment. 

We  know  very  accurately,  as  already  explained,  what 
nerve  action  underlies  a  simple  reflex  such  as  the  knee- 
jerk.  We  have  also  pictured  a  somewhat  longer  nerve 
path  extending  to  the  cortex  and  we  have  shown  that  the 
cortex  has  abundant  neurons  for  the  most  elaborate 
neuron  patterns. 

We  may  now  draw  some  imaginary  pictures  to  help  us 
understand  what  may  take  place. 

If  we  wish  to  attract  a  baby's  attention,  we  clap  our 
hands  or  otherwise  make  a  rather  loud  noise.  The  air 
waves — the  physical  basis  of  sound — strike  the  ear  drum 
and  by  means  of  the  ear  mechanism  stimulate  the  audi- 
tory nerve;  i.e.,  set  into  activity  one  or  more  sensory 
neurons.  The  neurokyme  thus  started  passes  to  the  cor- 
tex and  into  motor  neurons  leading  to  muscles  that  move 
the  eye  or  turn  the  head.  This  is  a  relatively  simple 
neuron  pattern.  We  may  imagine  something  like  Fig.  28, 
where  the  energy  aroused  by  the  stimulus  enters  the  cor- 
tex over  the  sensory  neuron  shown  at  the  extreme  right 
(E),  and  passes  across  to  the  series  of  motor  neurons 
as  indicated  by  the  arrows  (A,  B,  C,  D).  According  to 
the  laws  of  localization,  this  pattern  lies  in  the  auditory 
centre  in  the  temporal  lobe.  See  Fig.  19,  p.  12.) 

Again  suppose  one  attracts  the  child  by  touching  his 
cheek  so  that  he  turns  his  head.  Fig.  29  might  be  an- 
other simple  pattern  that  pictures  this  process.1 

Once  more,  let  us  assume  a  bright  light  flashed  in  baby's 

i  The  student  must  understand  that  we  have  represented  only  a  few  fibres 
for  the  sake  of  simplicity.  It  is  probable  that  even  the  simplest  conscious 
act  involves  large  groups  of  neurons  and  the  complex  processes  to  be 
discussed  later  involve  correspondingly  larger  areas  comprising  an  appre- 
ciable part  of  the  10,000,000,000  neurons. 

[35] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

eyes  with  his  resulting  movements  to  escape  the  glare. 
Fig.  30  is  a  section  of  the  visual  cortex  and  may  be  taken 
to  illustrate  the  possible  pattern. 

These  are  all  simple  patterns.  We  may  next  consider 
a  more  complicated  situation. 

Suppose  a  stranger  approaches  the  baby  and  baby  sees 
him  but  does  not  at  once  move — we  say  he  does  not  know 
whether  to  go  to  the  stranger  or  to  cry.  Here  apparently 
is  a  more  complex  state  of  mind  and  we  may  picture  a  neu- 
ron pattern  involving  as  complicated  a  system  as  that 
shown  in  Fig.  31  A  and  B. 

Finally  we  may  consider  a  case  that  will  be  typical  of 
the  higher  mental  processes.  I  am  writing  at  my  desk 
when  I  smell  a  peculiar  odour ;  it  is  the  odour  of  burning 
wool ;  I  remember  the  fire  on  the  hearth ;  I  recall  hearing 
it  snap  a  few  seconds  ago;  I  am  sure  that  a  spark  has 
fallen  on  the  carpet  and  the  carpet  is  burning ;  I  imagine 
the  whole  room  ablaze;  I  think  of  the  fire  extinguisher 
and  see  myself  running  with  it  to  put  out  the  fire ;  but  the 
baby  is  asleep  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room,  I  must  carry 
him  to  a  place  of  safety  before  I  run  for  the  fire  ex- 
tinguisher ;  already  I  imagine  I  hear  him  crying  and  see 
him  squirming  in  his  cradle. 

All  this  ' '  has  gone  thru  my  brain ' '  while  I  am  dropping 
my  pen  and  getting  on  my  feet.  What  is  the  neuron  pat- 
tern? Very  complicated  indeed.  No  neurologist  could 
trace  it.  Fig.  33  is  only  a  diagram  to  indicate  some  of 
the  paths  and  to  show  by  comparison  with  the  previous 
patterns  Figs.  28-31  something  of  the  relative  complexi- 
ties. 

It  will  be  noted  that  in  our  simpler  illustrations  the 
neuron  patterns  were  located  in  a  single  cortical  area 
e.g.,  the  auditory  centre,  the  visual,  etc.,  but  in  this  last 

[36] 


Fig.  33.  Diagram  illustrating  some  of  the  chief  association  tracts 
of  the  cerebral  hemisphere.  Note  how  every  part  is  connected 
with  every  other  part  of  the  brain. 

From  Herrick 


ELABORATE  NEURON  PATTERNS 

case  all  the  different  centres  are  involved,  including 
those  not  yet  named.  How  these  get  connected  we  shall 
now  consider. 

How  did  it  come  about  that  when  I  smelled  the  strange 
odour  I  thought  of  ("saw,"  had  a  visual  image  of)  the 
fire  ?  I  smelled  the  odour  (was  conscious  of  an  olfactory 
sensation)  because  my  nose  was  assailed  by  a  vaporous 
or  gaseous  substance  that  stimulated  the  sensory  neurons 
of  the  nose  and  the  energy  thus  aroused  was  transmitted 
to  the  olfactory  centre  of  the  cortex.  When  I  saw  "in 
my  mind"  the  fire,  the  cells  of  the  occipital  lobe 
were  in  activity.  But  those  cells  were  not  set  into  activ- 
ity by  the  stimulations  of  the  eye.  How  then?  Before 
undertaking  to  answer  this  question  we  must  consider 
another  topic  of  fundamental  importance. 

On  page  16  we  defined  specific  stimulus  and  called  at- 
tention to  the  fact  that  each  localized  area  of  the  cortex 
responds  to  its  own  specific  stimulus.  We  may  now  go 
further  and  cite  the  work  of  Brodmann.  He  has  shown 
that  each  area  has  its  peculiar  type  and  arrangement  of 
cells.  This  still  further  emphasizes  the  fact  that  the 
cortex  has  developed  for  specific  functions.  It  is  this 
idea  that  we  must  now  extend  in  order  to  understand  the 
mental  processes  that  are  related  to  this  condition. 

It  is  only  a  step  from  the  fact  of  cortical  localization 
(each  type  of  stimulus  has  its  area  of  the  cortex  prepared 
to  respond)  and  Brodmann  Js  discovery  of  a  peculiar  type 
and  arrangement  of  cells  in  each  region  of  the  cortex 
(special  cell  structure  provided  for  each  special  stimulus) 
to  the  further  fact  that  there  are  what  we  may  call  spe- 
cific neuron  patterns  (certain  stimuli  find  neuron  paths 
already  marked  out  for  them) . 

We  have  seen,  page  20,  Fig.  24,  that  stimulation  of  the 

[37] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

patella  tendon  results  in  the  activity  of  a  simple  reflex 
arc  composed  of  two  neurons.  Similarly  there  are  defi- 
nite neuron  patterns  for  the  other  reflexes. 

But  we  need  not  stop  with  reflexes  as  usually  defined. 
There  is  a  great  group  of  stimuli  that  are  so  universally 
followed  by  specific  reactions  that  it  is  certain  there  is  a 
specific  neuron  pattern  for  each.  Such  patterns  give  rise 
to  actions  that  are  said  to  be  instinctive.  These  are  the 
instincts. 

Instincts  probably  differ  from  reflexes  mainly  in  being 
more  complex — having  a  more  elaborate  neuron  pattern 
— and  in  that  they  are  more  or  less  closely  connected  with 
consciousness,  perhaps  from  the  fact  that  their  neuron 
patterns  extend  into  the  cerebral  cortex.  Instinct  has 
been  defined  by  McDougall  (34)  as  "An  inherited  or  in- 
nate psycho-physical  disposition  which  determines  its 
possessor  to  perceive,  and  pay  attention  to,  objects  of  a 
certain  class,  to  experience  an  emotional  excitement  of 
a  particular  quality  upon  perceiving  such  an  object,  and 
to  act  in  regard  to  it  in  a  particular  manner,  or,  at  least, 
to  experience  an  impulse  to  such  action." 

We  need  to  emphasize,  at  the  present  stage  of  our  dis- 
cussion, the  "innate  psycho-physical  disposition  which 
determines  its  possessor"  to  do  certain  things,  perceive, 
attend  and  act  or  have  an  impulse  to  act  even  if  for  any 
reason  the  act  itself  does  not  take  place.  This  is  easily 
translated  into  the  language  we  have  been  using.  Many 
of  the  neuron  patterns  such  as  we  have  described  are 
innate,  inherited,  that  is,  they  either  are  ready  formed  at 
birth  or  are  potentially  there,  and  do  not  have  to  be  ac- 
quired by  any  kind  of  learning  process.  When  the  right 
stimulus  is  applied  the  complete  reaction  takes  place  and 
takes  place  just  as  it  has  taken  place  countless  times  be- 

[38] 


INSTINCTS 

fore  in  the  history  of  the  race.  So  sure  is  this,  that  one 
can  predict  with  practical  certainty  what  will  happen. 
Like  a  set  piece  of  fireworks  the  plan  is  all  worked  out 
and  only  the  stimulus  is  necessary  to  set  it  all  going. 

The  number  of  these  patterns  is  unknown  and  there 
has  never  been  any  agreement  among  psychologists  as  to 
the  number  and  character  of  the  human  instincts.  It  is 
agreed  in  a  general  way  that  they  cover  the  necessary 
activities  for  the  preservation  of  the  individual  and  the 
race.  Flight,  pugnacity,  curiosity,  repulsion,  self-asser- 
tion, self-abasement  and  parental  instinct  are  primary 
instincts  according  to  McDougall.  These  we  shall  discuss 
later. 

We  must  now  emphasize  a  point  already  referred  to, 
viz.,  the  late  appearance  of  some  instincts.  We  have 
already  seen  that  the  neurons  and  consequently  the  neuron 
patterns  are  in  a  process  of  development  for  a  number  of 
years  after  birth — possibly  up  to  adult  life.  Many  simple 
reflexes  and  some  instincts  are  fully  developed  at  birth. 
The  rest  of  the  reflexes  probably  take  longer,  since  these 
instincts  appear  only  after  the  lapse  of  months  and  even 
years.  This  is  no  contradiction  of  the  fact  that  they  are 
inborn.  The  inherited  factor  is  the  potential  poiver  of 
the  neurons  to  grow  into  a  predetermined  pattern  just  as 
e.g.,  teeth  are  not  present  at  birth  but  there  are  tissue 
cells  with  all  the  inherent  prescribed  mode  of  development 
whereby  teeth  must  appear  at  the  proper  time.  The 
same  thing  is  true  with  instinct.  Certain  neuron  patterns 
are  innate  and  sure  to  appear  in  due  time.  This  leads  us 
to  the  observation  that  there  are  other  neuron  patterns 
not  innate  but  acquired. 

Thus  we  come  to  divide  neuron  patterns  and  with  them 
the  mental  processes  into  two  great  groups — the  innate 

[39] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

and  the  acquired.  The  former  has  been  called  by  Thorn- 
dike  the  original  nature  of  man;  the  latter  man's  acquisi- 
tions. Together  they  comprise  the  complete  nature  of 
man. 

Thus  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  the  many  phased 
question  of  heredity  and  environment — nature  and  nur- 
ture. 

The  first  sign  that  the  new  born  infant  is  alive  is  a  cry. 
This  is  considered  a  pure  reflex.  The  change  in  tempera- 
ture from  the  warm  body  of  the  mother  to  the  surround- 
ing atmosphere  stimulates  the  nerves  of  temperature  and 
produces  a  contraction  of  the  diaphragm  and  activity  of 
the  lungs  which  produces  the  cry.  No  other  assumption 
is  possible  than  that  there  is  at  this  time  a  thoroly 
developed  nerve  pattern  which  makes  possible  the  pas- 
sage of  the  energy  from  the  stimulus  of  cold  to  the  con- 
traction of  the  muscles  which  means  the  cry.  When  the 
infant  is  placed  to  the  breast  he  immediately  suckles  and 
here  again  we  have  a  thoroly  formed  neuron  pattern 
which  is  the  underlying  basis  for  this  reflex  or  instinctive 
act.  These  and  many  other  patterns  are  well  formed  at 
birth,  but  from  this  time  on  new  patterns  are  constantly 
being  formed  thru  the  growth  and  delevlopment  of  the 
neurons  necessary  to  complete  the  various  patterns.  The 
neuron  patterns  involved  in  the  instincts  whatever  they 
may  be,  or  wherever  they  may  be,  certainly  involve  but 
part  of  the  infant 's  ten  thousand  million  neurons.  What 
is  the  function  of  those  neurons  not  involved  in  these  in- 
herited patterns  ? 

We  have  said  that  the  neuron  pattern  underlying  an  in- 
stinct will  be  set  into  activity  whenever  the  appropriate 
stimulus  is  applied.  There  are,  therefore,  a  limited  num- 
ber of  stimuli  or  external  influences  for  which  there  arc 

[40] 


ACQUIRED  NEURON  PATTERNS 

in  the  human  heing  already  prepared  receptors ;  but  the 
number  of  stimuli  to  which  he  is  subjected  must  be  in- 
finite. What  of  that  great  number  of  stimuli  that  do  not 
find  in  the  nervous  system  a  ready  prepared  pattern! 
Evidently  they  must  either  be  without  any  response, 
make  no  impression  upon  the  sensorium,  or  they  must 
make  their  own  pathway  thru  the  brain,  that  is,  create 
their  own  pattern  more  or  less  at  random.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  both  of  these  things  happen.  There  are  many 
stimuli  that  so  far  as  we  know  make  no  impression  what- 
ever upon  the  sensorium  of  man.  There  are  wave  mo- 
tions in  the  air,  sound  waves,  that  are  so  frequent  that 
we  never  hear  the  sound.  There  are  wave  motions  in  the 
ether  which  we  have  no  eye  mechanism  to  receive.  There 
are  many  solutions  that,  applied  to  the  organ  of  taste,  pro- 
duce no  sensation  of  taste.  There  are  many  vapours  that, 
applied  to  the  olfactory  surface,  produce  no  sensation  of 
odour.  Indeed  it  is  probably  true  that  only  a  small  frac- 
tion of  the  stimuli  that  are  constantly  being  applied  to  us 
have  any  effect  whatever  upon  the  mind  of  man. 

There  are,  on  the  other  hand,  a  great  many  stimuli 
that  do  make  their  impressions,  not  by  setting  into  ac- 
tivity any  inherited  neuron  pattern  but  by  creating  their 
own  patterns.  As  I  turn  my  eye  in  a  certain  direction 
the  retina  is  stimulated  by  rays  of  light  which,  for  the 
convenience  of  the  reader,  I  must  describe  as  dark  red, 
but  the  single  stimulus  described  would  not  give  me  any 
such  reaction.  It  would  indeed  stimulate  the  retina  and 
set  into  activity  certain  neurons.  But  what  pattern  that 
energy  would  follow  or  what  neurons  would  be  stimu- 
lated it  is  impossible  to  say.  According  to  current  psy- 
chology it  would  give  me  a  sensation.  It  is  possible  that 
it  would  be  entirely  dissipated  in  the  brain.  There  are 

[41] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

many  facts  which  tend  to  force  upon  us  the  conclusion 
that  a  single  stimulus  reaching  the  brain  but  not  finding 
one  of  the  already  formed  inherited  patterns  is  lost.  A 
young  child  makes  no  response  to  countless  numbers  of 
different  stimuli,  regardless  of  their  frequency  or 
strength.  And  it  is  not  difficult  to  find  stimuli  that  do 
not  provoke  a  response  even  in  older  children.  This 
cannot  be  due  to  entire  absence  of  nerve  cells  since  the 
brains  of  these  children  are  by  no  means  wanting  in 
neurons  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  there 
are,  even  in  quite  young  children,  enough  neurons  to 
respond  to  a  large  number  of  stimuli,  if  a  single  non- 
specific stimulus  could  produce  a  response. 

If  we  accept  for  the  time  being  this  view  of  the  case, 
the  next  question  that  arises  is,  how  do  these  stimuli  ever 
produce  a  response?  The  explanation  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  stimuli  do  not  come  singly  but  in  multiples  and 
not  thru  one  sense  organ  but  thru  two  or  more  and  it  is 
by  this  means  that  neuron  patterns  that  fit  the  child's 
special  environment  are  built  up.  How  this  is  done  we 
must  now  study. 

Acquired  Neuron  Patterns. — In  the  foregoing  discus- 
sion it  was  suggested  that  the  nerve  effect  of  a  single 
stimulus  was  probably  lost  in  the  brain.  The  more  com- 
mon way  of  expressing  this  is  to  say  that  the  nerve  energy 
started  by  a  single  stimulus  tends  to  radiate  in  all  direc- 
tions, to  all  parts  of  the  brain,  at  least  to  all  of  the  princi- 
pal localized  centres.  If  the  auditory  centre  is  stimulated 
by  a  sound  wave,  some  of  this  energy  radiates  to  the  optic 
centre,  some  perhaps  to  the  taste  and  smell  centres,  some 
to  the  kinesthetic  or  skin  centres  and  perhaps  others  to 
the  other  regions  that  we  have  not  yet  named.  But  the 
energy  thus  divided  up  is  so  weakened  that  it  arouses  no 

[42] 


SUMMATION  OF  STIMULI 

great  activity  in  any  one  centre  and  consequently  pro- 
duces no  particular  result.  If  we  wish  to  include  con- 
sciousness in  our  discussion,  we  can  say,  "no  definite 
consciousness  in  any  particular  centre."  If  the  optic 
centre  is  stimulated  by  rays  of  light  on  the  retina,  the 
energy  likewise  would  radiate  to  all  the  different  centres 
and  become  lost.  If,  however,  both  centres  are  stimu- 
lated at  the  same  time,  we  may  readily  conceive  that  the 
line  or  pathway  from  the  auditory  centre  to  the  sight 
centre  and  from  the  sight  centre  to  the  auditory  centre 
gets  a  double  stimulation,  double  activity;  the  pathway 
is  twice  as  well  worn  as  in  a  single  instance. 

There  is  a  principle  in  neurology  as  well  as  in  physics 
known  as  the  summation  of  stimuli,  a  term  used  to  ex- 
press the  fact  that  a  nerve  path  once  having  been  used, 
the  nerve  energy  having  once  passed  over  a  certain  line  of 
neurons,  those  neurons  are  somehow  modified  or  changed 
by  that  passage  and  the  effect  is  permanent.  It  is  never 
entirely  lost.  When  a  second  stimulus  comes  it  not 
only  passes  over  that  line  somewhat  more  easily  because 
the  pathway  has  been  used  before,  but  the  effect  is  added 
to  the  previous  effect,  the  effects  are  summed  up,  and  that 
path  has  become  the  favoured  path. 

If  this  be  true,  it  is  clear  that  when  the  eye  and  the 
ear  are  stimulated  at  the  same  time  the  lines  of  neurons 
connecting  these  two  centres  in  the  brain  will  at  once 
have  an  advantage  over  any  other  pathway  which  has 
not  thus  been  doubled.  If  after  such  an  experience  the 
auditor  centre  alone  is  stimulated,  the  energy  which  was 
formerly  dissipated  thruout  all  of  the  centres  will  be  now 
more  easily  transmitted  to  the  visual  centre  than  else- 
where, with  the  result  that  the  same  centre  is  stimulated 
as  was  formerly  stimulated  by  the  visual  stimulus.  It 

[43] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

will  accordingly  produce  to  a  degree  the  same  result  as 
the  original  stimulus  or  will  arouse  the  same  conscious- 
ness. 

It  is  to  be  expected,  however,  that  while  it  will  pro- 
duce the  same  kind  of  result  or  arouse  the  same  con- 
sciousness it  will  not  produce  so  great  a  result  or 
arouse  so  vivid  a  consciousness.  It  is  reasonable  to  ex- 
pect that  the  direct  stimulation  of  the  visual  centre  of 
the  cortex  thru  its  own  particular  nerve,  the  optic,  would 
be  more  vivid,  more  intense,  greater  energy  would  be 
developed  than  when  the  stimulation  comes  by  way  of 
the  auditory  or  some  other  centre,  because  in  all  prob- 
ability more  or  less  nerve  energy  is  lost  in  thus  trans- 
mitting from  one  centre  to  the  other.  Moreover  this 
agrees  well  with  experience. 

Considering  this  matter  from  the  standpoint  of  con- 
sciousness we  have  the  following :  My  retina  is  stimulated 
by  the  brilliant  rays  of  light  and  I  say,  "I  see  a  bright 
light. "  If  I  now  see  a  bright  light  and  hear  a  loud  noise 
at  the  same  time,  this  pathway  as  above  described  be- 
tween the  auditory  and  visual  centres  is  deeply  worn, 
speaking  figuratively.  Now,  having  had  that  experi- 
ence, suppose  I  again  hear  the  same  loud  noise,  I  will  at 
once  think  of  the  same  bright  light  that  I  saw  before. 
But  we  know  that  this  bright  light  "thot  of,"  will 
not  be  so  vivid,  so  clear  or  last  so  long  in  consciousness 
or  produce  the  same  motor  effect  as  the  bright  light 
"actually  seen." 

It  is  customary  to  describe -these  two  experiences  by 
saying  that  when  the  centre  is  directly  stimulated  by  its 
appropriate  stimulus  we  have  a  perception  of  the  light, 
we  perceive  the  light,  we  see  it.  But  when  the  centre  is 
stimulated  directly  from  another  centre  of  the  brain 

[44] 


V~o. 


X- — a 


Fig.  34.  Diagram  to  illustrate  what  happens  in  brain  when  ideas 
are  associated.  A,  an  auditory  stimulus  arouses  thru  the  ear 
the  auditory  centre  E.  The  energy  radiates  in  all  directions 
and  is  dissipated.  B,  a  visual  stimulus  to  the  retina  arouses 
the  visual  centre  0.  The  energy  radiates  in  all  directions  and 
is  dissipated.  C,  auditory  and  visual  stimuli  simultaneously 
arouse  their  respective  centres.  The  tract  joining  them  is 
doubly  active.  Another  time  when  E  or  0  is  aroused  alone 
by  the  external  stimulus,  the  other  will  be  aroused  by  way  of 
this  association  path. 


ASSOCIATION  OF  IDEAS 

we  have  an  idea  of  the  light,  a  mental  picture  or  a  men- 
tal image.  We  say,  "There  is  no  light  there  but  I 
imagine  one,  or  I  thot  of  one."  And  we  know  that 
such  an  experience  is  apparently  quite  different  from 
the  direct  experience.  There  is  a  difference  between 
the  real  thing  and  an  imaginary  thing.  The  accompany- 
ing diagram,  Fig.  34,  A,  B,  and  C  will  help  to  make  this 
clear. 

This  whole  process  is  commonly  called  association  of 
ideas,  but  is  in  reality,  as  Titchener  points  out,  not  an 
association  of  ideas  but  an  association  of  experiences.  I 
think  of  the  bright  light  when  I  hear  the  sound,  or  I 
think  of  the  sound  when  I  see  the  flash  of  light,  not  be- 
cause I  have  done  anything,  not  because  I  will  to  do  so 
or'  plan  to,  but  because  originally  the  bright  light  and 
the  sound  were  together  and  they  entered  my  sensorium 
at  the  same  time,  producing  the  result  as  above  ex- 
plained. 

Extension  of  the  Principle. — In  our  example  we  have 
simplified  the  matter  as  much  as  possible.  But  if  the 
principle  is  clear,  in  the  example  given,  it  is  easy  to  ex- 
tend it  in  all  directions,  that  is,  between  all  centres  of  the 
brain.  We  are  not  necessarily  confined  to  two  stimuli 
since  there  may  be  more,  as  many  as  there  are  sense  or- 
gans or  receptors. 

We  thus  see  that  it  is  a  question  of  what  stimuli  reach 
the  sensorium  and  start  a  neuron  pattern;  and  that 
wherever  two  or  more  stimuli  occur  at  the  same  time  or 
in  immediate  succession  they  become  associated,  and  a 
neuron  pattern  is  developed.  These  neuron  patterns 
may,  and  will,  become  elaborated  by  every  new  experi- 
ence. For  example,  the  same  loud  noise  that  was  asso- 
ciated with  a  bright  flash  may  be  followed  by  other 

[45]  ' 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

noises  of  different  quality  in  such  rapid  succession  as  to 
be  practically  simultaneous.  They  thus  enter  into  the 
neuron  complex  and  at  the  same  time  the  consciousness 
becomes  more  elaborate.  The  bright  flash  may  in  the 
same  way  be  associated  with  colour  stimuli  of  different 
sources,  until  the  whole  may  be  grouped  together  into 
an  elaborate  neuron  pattern  which  may  underlie  in  con- 
sciousness an  elaborate  picture,  for  instance,  a  man  fir- 
ing a  gun. 

If  all  the  neurons  have  developed  in  a  normal  way 
there  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  the  possibility  of  such  elab- 
oration of  neuron  patterns.  And  this  elaboration  may  go 
on  thruout  life.  The  simple  pattern  is  extended  by  every 
experience  that  may  later  be  associated  with  the  original. 
The  man  firing  a  gun  may  become  a  Mexican,  a  French- 
man or  a  German  firing  a  flintlock,  a  rifle,  a  machine  gun, 
a  cannon.  He  may  be  firing  at  a  target,  at  an  animal, 
at  a  man,  in  war,  etc.,  etc.  And  thus  the  mind  is  built 
up;  and  man's  acquired  nature  added  to  his  original 
nature,  the  inherited  instinct,  makes  the  complete  nature 
of  man. 

For  the  sake  of  clearness  we  have  left  out  a  step  in 
the  foregoing  discussion.  This  step  is  logically  import- 
ant. It  seems  that  we  must  assume  that  in  the  first  in- 
stance of  an  association  between  two  stimuli  one  of  them 
must  be  specfic;  i.e.,  having  its  own  inborn  neuron  pat- 
tern. Thus  the  process  is  a  simple  extension  of  the  in- 
stinctive system.  The  first  acquisitions  are  thus  made 
by  connecting  them  with  original  nature.  These  new 
acquisitions  then  become  a  part  of  the  mind  and  a  basis 
for  any  further  associations  that  may  be  made  with  it; 
and  so  on  indefinitely. 

If  now  we  consider  children  in  the  various  stages  of 

[46] 


NEURON  PATTERNS  OF  THE  CHILD 

their  development,  we  find  abundant  confirmation  of 
this  view.  Let  us  take  some  illustrations.  The  child 
sees  a  man  with  his  head,  body,  arms  and  legs.  For  the 
sake  of  simplicity  let  us  assume  that  each  arm  and  each 
leg,  the  head  and  the  body,  each  is  a  stimulus ;  and  that 
they  become  associated  together  in  the  making  of  the 
outline  of  the  complete  figure.  When  once  that  com- 
plete association  has  taken  place  it  is  possible  for  the 
child,  having  any  one  of  these  applied  as  a  stimulus,  to 
fill  out  the  rest  of  the  picture.  For  example,  thinking 
of  the  head  he  easily  imagines  the  body  and  the  arms 
and  the  legs.  But  we  now  know  with  some  accuracy 
that  there  is  a  rather  definite  time  when  the  neuron  sys- 
tem has  developed  to  the  point  where  such  an  association 
is  possible. 

It  is  found  by  experience  and  experiment  that  a  child 
under  seven  may  be  given  a  drawing  of  a  human  figure 
with  the  arms  left  out  and  he  cannot  imagine  the  arms. 
His  neuron  pattern  is  incomplete.  The  different  parts 
of  it  are  so  imperfectly  associated  that  the  "arm  pat- 
tern" is  not  aroused  tho  all  the  rest  are  in  activity  from 
direct  stimulation  by  the  picture  itself.  At  the  age  of 
three  his  neuron  system  is  apparently  very  simple. 
For,  when  shown  a  picture,  he  sees  only  a  few  details. 
He  does  not  associate  the  different  parts  together,  and 
name  the  whole  picture.  He  gives  the  simplest  re- 
sponses which  have  been  built  up  by  experience.  He  will 
point  to  the  man  and  say,  "Man,"  "Another  man."  At 
a  little  later  age  he  will  enumerate  everything  in  the  pic- 
ture but  he  does  not  put  them  all  together  and  tell  what 
is  going  on  in  the  picture.  This  may  easily  be  explained 
in  accordance  with  the  above  view,  that  his  neuron  pat- 
terns are  not  so  well  elaborated  that  when  a  given  stim- 

[47] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ulus  enters  the  sensorium  it  arouses  to  activity  the  large 
number  of  neurons  that  would  mean  the  consciousness 
of  the  picture  as  a  whole.  But  rather  each  little  detail 
that  catches  his  eye  arouses  its  little  pattern  which  most 
frequently  involves  only  the  name  of  the  object. 

Earl  Barnes  (3)  has  shown  that  the  child's  first  draw- 
ing of  a  man  is  a  circular  head ;  soon  he  adds  eyes,  then 
nose  and  mouth  and  finally  a  body.  It  is  considerably 
later  that  he  adds  clothes,  with  buttons — and  when  he 
discovers  buttons  he  is  apt  to  put  them  everywhere. 
Evidently  he  puts  in  these  various  details  as  he  gets  con- 
scious of  them,  as  his  neuron  patterns  develop.  Altho 
the  whole  man  has  been  before  him  all  the  time  he  at 
first  saw  only  the  round  face,  then  eyes.  It  is  of  interest 
to  note  also  that  eyes  are  significant  to  animals.  Wild 
animals  will  approach  a  man  if  his  eyes  are  closed,  when 
they  will  not  do  so  if  the  eyes  are  open. 

In  the  case  of  the  normal  child  the  neuron  patterns 
are  constantly  increasing  in  complexity  and  in  number 
and  the  greater  the  complexity  and  number,  the  greater 
is  the  capacity  for  more.  Upon  this  view  it  is  easy  to  see 
the  fundamental  importance  of  wide  experience  for  the 
growing  child,  for  it  is  experience,  and  experience  only 
that  develops  the  neuron  patterns.  Even  the  instincts 
cannot  manifest  themselves  until  their  appropriate  stimu- 
lus is  applied.  And  only  the  widest  possible  experience 
can  ever  utilize  even  a  part  of  the  large  number  of  neu- 
rons that  are  capable  of  functioning.  If  a  child  were  to 
be  shut  up  and  limited  to  only  a  few  stimuli  there  would  be 
no  possibility  of  more  than  a  few  neuron  patterns  devel- 
oping. 

The  story  of  Caspar  Hauser  is  familiar.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  this  person  had  been  imprisoned  practically 

[48] 


NEURONS  OF  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

all  his  life,  about  sixteen  years,  and  when  he  finally  es- 
caped and  came  out  into  the  world  he  was,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  an  imbecile,  if  not  an  idiot.  He  had  been 
shut  away  from  the  thousands  and  millions  of  stimuli 
that  should  have  developed  the  neuron  patterns  and  con- 
sequently he  had  no  capacity  at  his  age  for  meeting  the 
environment  in  which  he  suddenly  found  himself. 

In  the  feeble-minded  we  have  the  same  condition 
brought  about  thru  other  factors.  The  stimuli  are 
indeed  present.  The  feeble-minded  child  lives  in  a  nor- 
mal world  where  the  usual  stimuli  meet  him.  But  be- 
cause of  the  failure  of  a  great  many  of  his  neurons  to  de- 
velop to  complete  functioning  capacity,  he  is  not  able  to 
acquire  the  neuron  patterns  which  mean  adaptation  to  a 
large  environment. 

One  of  the  most  noticeable  things  about  a  group  of 
idiots  is  their  constant  repetition  of  the  same  move- 
ments; and  oftentimes  these  movements  are  so  indi- 
vidual and  peculiar  that  they  attract  one's  attention. 
The  writer  spent  months  observing  this  group  of  de- 
fectives and  attempting  to  account  for  these  very  pe- 
culiar activities.  They  were  so  striking  that  it  seemed 
that  they  must  be  significant  of  something  much  more 
important  than  they  proved  to  be.  It  was  thot  that 
there  might  be  traces  of  a  hidden  past,  in  the  race  if 
not  the  individual,  ''reverberations  from  the  ancestral 
sea."  It  was  a  long  time  before  the  simple  explanation 
dawned  that  they  are  merely  accidental  performances, 
which  being  once  learned  the  neuron  pattern  being  once 
formed,  the  child,  not  having  the  capacity  for  learning 
new  combinations  or  for  developing  new  patterns,  is 
condemned  all  his  life  to  go  thru  with  that  one  activity. 
For  instance,  here  is  a  boy  that  delights  to  lie  on  his  back 

[49] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

on  the  floor  or  on  a  bench,  and  twirl  a  string  in  his  fingers 
above  his  face.  Another  one  seems  to  delight  to  get 
hold  of  an  old  rag  and  play  with  it  and  roll  it  about  and 
handle  it.  Another  one  sits  by  the  hour  and  moves  his 
foot  in  a  particular  way.  Many  of  them  sway  back  and 
forth  constantly.  Some  utter  continually  the  same 
sound,  the  same  grunt.  Those  that  approach  to  the  use 
of  language  have  certain  phrases  that  they  constantly 
repeat.  And  so,  one  might  go  thru  a  long  list.  There 
is  no  significance  to  these  things,  they  simply  represent 
the  individual's  one  accomplishment. 

As  we  go  up  the  scale  of  intelligence  we  have  precisely 
the  same  thing  except  that  it  is  more  elaborate.  The 
low  grade  imbecile  has  a  few  more  accomplishments  and 
these  he  repeats  continually.  The  middle  and  high  grade 
imbeciles  can  do  a  little  more.  The  high  grade  moron 
can  develop  quite  a  good  many  of  these  neuron  patterns 
and  can  learn  to  do  a  great  many  things,  but  he  is  never 
able  to  adapt  himself  to  a  new  environment  without  very 
special  effort  on  the  part  of  the  trainer.  Having 
learned  one  activity,  to  do  a  thing  in  a  particular  way, 
he  cannot  modify  it  to  suit  changed  conditions.  His 
neuron  pattern  is  formed  and  it  has  little  or  no  con- 
nection with  any  other  neuron  pattern  and  consequently 
there  is  no  change.  Even  dull  normals  show  the  same 
tendency  in  their  constant  use  of  a  few  phrases  or  their 
repetition  of  limited  activities.  Perhaps  we  need  not 
stop  even  here ! 

Summary. 

1.  The  development  of  mind  follows  the  development 
of  the  nervous  system. 

[50] 


SUMMARY 

2.  Somewhere  in  the  course  of  development  conscious- 
ness appears. 

3.  Different  parts  of  the  cortex  respond  to  different 
types  of  stimuli — localization. 

4.  The  child  is  born  with  inherited  neuron  patterns 
which  need  only  their  specific  stimuli  to  set  them  into 
activity.     There  are  also  other  neuron  patterns  which 
while  not  complete  at  birth  have  inherited  potentiality 
for  development. 

5.  The  neuron  patterns  are  first  simple  reflexes,  then 
gradually  more  and  more  complex — instinct,  perception 
and  idea. 

6.  To  the  inherited  patterns  are  gradually  added  ac- 
quired patterns  built  up  by  experience. 

7.  Two  stimuli  applied  at  the  same  time  thru  differ- 
ent sense   organs    (e.g.,   eye  and  ear)    reach  their  re- 
spective   cortical    areas    and    become    associated — con- 
tiguity.   Afterwards  whenever  one  is  aroused  by  its  ap- 
propriate stimulus  the  other  is  set  into  activity  by  as- 
sociation. 

8.  The  feeble-minded  are   deficient  in  the   acquired 
neuron  patterns. 


[51] 


CHAPTER  III 
ARRESTED  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT 

IN  the  previous  chapters  has  been  described  the  course 
of  brain  development  including  the  ever  increasing 
elaboration  of  neuron  patterns.  We  have  traced  in  a 
general  way  the  development  of  mental  processes  as  the 
nerve  cell  mechanism  becomes  elaborated  from  simple 
patterns  to  the  most  complex  imaginable.  We  have  as- 
sumed that  there  is  a  time  when  this  neuron  develop- 
ment becomes  complete,  at  which  time  there  is,  so  far 
as  the  brain  is  concerned,  the  possibility  of  the  highest 
known  mental  development.  Theoretically,  every  human 
being  has  the  possibility  of  reaching  this  limiting  point ; 
but  many  things  may  intervene  to  stop  the  develop- 
ment of  the  brain  before  it  has  reached  this  ultimate 
mature  condition.  Just  as  the  body  itself  may  cease  to 
develop  in  stature  with  the  result  that  we  have  dwarfs, 
so  we  have  dwarfed  brains  with  the  accompanying 
dwarfed  intelligence. 

The  feeble-minded  have  long  been  described  as  cases 
of  arrested  mental  development.  They  are,  it  is  true, 
marked  examples  of  the  principle,  but  we  wish  for  the 
present  to  consider  arrested  mental  development  from 
a  broader  standpoint  than  that  of  the  feeble-minded. 
For  the  sake  of  definiteness  we  have  provisionally  taken 
the  arbitrary  age  of  twenty  years  as  the  upper  limit  of 
development.  If,  therefore,  we  assume  that  the  human 
brain  ought  to  develop,  continue  to  elaborate  its  neurons 
and  neuron  patterns  until  the  age  of  twenty,  at  which 

[52] 


MENTAL  AGE 

time  we  might  assume  that  there  is  a  perfect  mechanism 
developed,  it  is  clear  that  any  brain  that  ceased  to  de- 
velop prior  to  that  time  would  be  a  case  of  arrested 
brain  development,  with  its  necessary  arrest  of  mental- 
ity. Once  this  concept  is  grasped,  it  is  easy  to  see  that, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  human  society  is  made  up  of  in- 
dividuals with  every  degree  of  arrested  development 
from  those  just  short  of  perfect  development  down  to 
the  lowest  grade  idiot  who  has  only  the  mentality  and 
practically  only  the  brain  growth  of  the  new  born  in- 
fant. 

Since  we  have  no  unit  for  measuring  mentality,  it  has 
become  customary  to  indicate  the  grade  of  intelligence  by 
referring  to  the  mental  attainment  commonly  found  in 
children  of  various  ages.  For  example,  a  child  who  has 
developed  normally  until  the  age  of  eight  has  what  we 
may  call  eight  year  intelligence,  the  nine  year  child, 
nine  year  intelligence,  and  so  on  up  and  down  the  scale. 
According  to  this  hypothesis  no  one  has  more  than 
twenty  year  intelligence  since  that  is  the  maximum  and 
if  all  brains  developed  to  the  maximum,  everybody  would 
have  twenty  year  intelligence,  while  the  person  who  had 
only  nineteen  year  intelligence  would  be  arrested  men- 
tally and  would  be  one  year  retarded.  Others  have 
stopped  with  a  mentality  of  eighteen,  still  others  at 
sixteen  and  fifteen  and  at  every  age,  down  to  one  year 
or  even  less.  On  this  view  it  is  easy  to  see  that  if  twenty 
year  intelligence  is  the  maximum,  that  is  to  say,  rep- 
resents the  mentality  of  the  most  intelligent,  then  the 
intelligence  of  the  average  person  would  be  consider- 
ably below  this.  It  is  evident  that  the  proportion  of 
people  who  have  exceptionally  high  intelligence  is  rela- 
tively very  small.  Terman  (50  p.  140)  in  his  studies  of 

[53] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

this  problem  has  placed  the  intelligence  of  the  average 
man  at  sixteen:  this  may  be  not  far  from  correct  since 
studies  of  the  brain  indicate  that  the  neuron  development 
has  gone  so  far  by  that  time  that  at  sixteen  years  there 
are  enough  elaborate  neuron  patterns  to  underlie  not 
only  the  reflexes  and  instincts  but  also  a  great  many  ac- 
quired patterns, — sufficient  for  the  ordinary  reactions 
of  life.  These,  however,  might  not  be  sufficiently  elaborate 
to  account  for  a  Newton,  a  Leonardo  Da  Vinci,  a  Plato, 
an  Aristotle,  a  Spencer  or  the  Brownings  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  great  men  and  women  past  and  present. 
Just  as  the  average  is  considerably  below  the  maximum, 
so  there  may  be  many  who  are  below  the  average.  That 
there  are  many  persons  of  less  than  average  intelligence 
is  obvious. 

A  difficulty  occurs  here,  however,  which  must  be  ex- 
plained. It  is  a  common  error  to  think  of  an  intelligence 
below  the  average,  or  even  below  the  maximum,  as  due 
to  a  lack  of  education.  In  other  words,  it  is  common  to 
confuse  intelligence  with  education.  Altho  the  relation 
between  the  two  is  not  easy  to  explain  in  all  its  details, 
yet  they  are  by  no  means  the  same.  We  can  perhaps 
make  the  relation  fairly  clear  by  a  few  rather  general 
statements,  all  of  which  should  be  modified  to  cover  the 
exceptional  cases,  but  which  in  the  main  express  the  rela- 
tionship. Intelligence  is  a  matter  of  inborn  capacity,  of 
neurons  and  neuron  patterns ;  education  is  largely  a  mat- 
ter of  environment,  of  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  the 
inborn  capacity — the  development  of  elaborate  patterns 
from  the  neurons  that  one  has. 

It  is  probably  true  that  most  people  whose  short-com- 
ings we  account  for  on  the  ground  of  lack  of  education 
are  really  lacking  in  intelligence.  Those  who  have  the 

[54] 


intelligence  as  a  rule  get  the  education  in  one  way  or  an- 
other,— if  not  in  a  formal  way  thru  schools  and  colleges, 
then  thru  the  practical  affairs  of  life,  such  as  travel,  busi- 
ness, association  with  people  who  have  education,  use  of 
libraries,  public  lectures,  journals,  and  even  newspapers. 
There  are,  it  is  true,  many  and  marked  exceptions  to  this 
rule.  But  they  are  exceptions  and  in  these  days  of  op- 
portunity the  exceptions  are  easily  discovered  by  any 
one  who  makes  the  effort  to  determine  whether  such  an 
individual  is  actually  lacking  in  intelligence  or  only  lack- 
ing in  knowledge — is  ignorant.  In  the  first  place  it  is  not 
at  all  uncommon  to  hear  the  expression,  "He  is  an 
ignorant  man,  but  very  intelligent  along  his  line."  In 
fact,  these  intelligent  ignorant  people  have  usually  made 
a  success  of  life  or  of  some  trade  or  profession — and 
they  are  perfectly  able  to  succeed  along  any  line  that 
does  not  require  a  wide  knowledge  and  broad  education. 
On  the  other  hand  the  individual  who  lacks  intelligence 
or,  in  terms  of  our  neurological  explanation,  who  lacks 
the  necessary  neuron  patterns,  cannot  become  educated 
in  any  large  sense.  It  is  true  that  he  may  have  a  memory 
for  facts  and  accumulate  a  large  amount  of  informa- 
tion, but  he  makes  very  little  practical  use  of  it,  and  does 
not  show  judgment  and  good  sense  in  the  ordinary  af- 
fairs of  life. 

The  best  method  of  determining  who  is  intelligent  and 
who  is  merely  uneducated  is  the  scientific  method  of 
measuring  the  intelligence.  Thanks  to  the  genius  of  Al- 
fred Binet  of  Paris,  we  now  have  measuring  scales  for 
intelligence  that  determine  with  a  high  degree  of  accuracy 
the  mental  level  of  an  individual.  Up  to  the  present  time 
these  scales  are  more  valuable  for  the  younger  years,  up 
to  perhaps  twelve,  altho  they  are  being  extended  and 

[55] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

will  eventually  be  applicable  to  all  grades.  It  is  thru  the 
use  of  these  scales  for  measuring  intelligence  that  we 
have  arrived  at  the  concept  of  intelligence  levels  and  have 
learned  that  in  human  beings  these  levels  range  the  en- 
tire length  of  the  scale  from  the  intelligence  of  one  year 
to  the  upper  limit,  whether  that  be  twenty  years,  or  more 
or  less. 

If  now  we  accept  twenty  year  intelligence  as  the  upper 
limit  and  sixteen  year,  according  to  Terman,  as  the 
average  intelligence,  we  may  properly  call  all  those  who 
do  not  attain  to  at  least  the  mentality  of  sixteen  as  per- 
sons who  are  arrested  in  their  mental  development,  and 
in  accordance  with  the  teachings  of  the  previous  chapters 
we  shall  conclude  that  their  neuron  patterns  are  incom- 
plete. The  neurons  have  failed  to  develop  sufficiently  to 
enable  the  individual  to  have  the  necessary  patterns. 

It  is  now  a  demonstrated  fact  that  many  people  do  not 
reach  the  sixteen  year  level,  there  are  many  at  fifteen,  al- 
most as  many  at  fourteen  and  thirteen,  a  great  many  at 
twelve  and  below.  Before  we  can  appreciate  arrested 
mental  development  we  must  understand  normal  intelli- 
gence better. 

What  is  Intelligence? — In  the  previous  pages  we  have 
used  the  term  intelligence  in  the  popular  sense  as  being 
readily  understood  by  all  readers.  It  now  becomes  de- 
sirable to  attempt  to  define  it  scientifically  in  order  to  be 
able  to  speak  with  greater  accuracy  of  its  manifestations 
and  to  relate  it  more  closely  to  neuron  development. 

We  have  tried  to  make  clear  in  the  foregoing  pages 
the  conception  that  intelligence  is  dependent  upon  and 
correlative  with  neuron  activity;  that  the  more  elaborate 
and  complicated  the  neuron  pattern,  the  higher  the  pos- 
sible intelligence;  and  conversely,  the  greater  the  intelli- 

[56] 


INTELLIGENCE 

gence  displayed,  the  more  elaborate  must  be  the  neuron 
pattern  that  underlies  it ;  also  the  opposite,  the  lower  the 
intelligence  the  less  the  neuron  patterns  are  developed. 

Inasmuch  as  intelligence  is  considered  to  involve  con- 
sciousness we  may  say  that  intelligence  is  the  summation 
of  consciousness.  Conceived  as  an  abstract  mental  pro- 
cess, it  is  the  sum  total  of  all  the  related  consciousnesses 
that  one  is  able  to  bring  to  bear  upon  a  particular  occa- 
sion. From  the  standpoint  of  activity,  intelligent  action 
is  action  resulting  from  the  most  elaborate  neuron  pat- 
tern that  is  involved  in  the  situation.  From  the  stand- 
point of  efficient  living,  the  intelligent  person  is  one  who 
has  had  sufficiently  good  inherited  neuron  patterns,  and 
has  had  sufficient  experience,  to  develop  an  abundance  of 
acquired  patterns ;  and  as  a  result  is  able  at  any  moment 
to  bring  enough  of  these  into  connection  to  enable  him  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  most  complicated  situations  of  life. 

Conversely,  the  relatively  unintelligent  person  is  one 
who  is  unable  to  adapt  himself  to  new  conditions,  either 
because  he  has  not  inherited  the  necessary  neurons,  or  be- 
cause the  conditions  of  his  life  have  been  so  unusual  and 
abnormal  that  he  has  not  had  the  experience  to  bring  his 
neurons  into  co-operation  and  thus  develop  sufficiently 
elaborate  patterns.  The  latter  condition,  sometimes 
called  defect  by  deprivation,  is  so  rare  that  the  few  in- 
stances of  it  are  usually  marked  cases,  such  as  that  of 
Caspar  Hauser  already  referred  to  or  cases  of  the  deaf 
and  blind  who  have  not  been  specially  educated.  We 
may  easily  conceive  that  Helen  Keller  and  Laura  Bridg- 
man  would  have  been  of  low  intelligence  had  not  special 
means  been  used  to  reach  the  brain  and  develop  neuron 
patterns  thru  the  senses  that  remained  intact. 

The  Feeble-Minded. — In  our  discussion  of  intelligence 

[57] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

we  have  used  the  expression  " ability  to  adapt  one's  self 
to  one's  environment  or  to  new  situations."  We  may 
quote  Stern  who  defines  intelligence  as  "the  general 
capacity  of  an  individual  consciously  to  adjust  his  think- 
ing to  new  requirements."  According  to  this,  intelli- 
gence consists  in  a  general  adaptability  to  new  problems 
and  conditions  of  life.  It  will  be  seen  at  once  that  this 
adaptability  is  a  good  measure  of  intelligence,  and  those 
people  who  are  best  able  to  adapt  their  thinking  and  their 
actions  to  the  most  elaborate  situations  are  the  most  in- 
telligent; while  those  of  less  intelligence,  altho  able  to 
adapt  themselves  to  the  ordinary  conditions  of  life,  are 
confused  and  rendered  helpless  by  the  more  complex 
situations.  Still  lower :  there  are  those  of  whom  James 
says  that  they  are  "  nonplussed  by  all  but  the  very  sim- 
plest situations." 

Now  the  ability  to  live  an  independent  existence,  to 
make  a  living,  and  to  conduct  one's  self  with  reasonable 
propriety  in  a  modern  community  involves  a  certain 
amount  of  this  power  of  adaptation  and  there  is  a  cer- 
tain minimum  below  which  one  cannot  succeed.  That 
point  is  usually  taken  as  marking  the  line  between  the 
normal  individual  and  the  feeble-minded. 

Tredgold's  definitions  are  based  upon  this  principle. 
He  defines  feeble-mindedness  in  the  generic  sense  (Amen- 
tia) as: 

'  *  A  state  of  mental  defect  from  birth,  or  from  an  early 
age,  due  to  incomplete  cerebral  development,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  the  person  affected  is  unable  to  perform 
his  duties  as  a  member  of  society  in  the  position  of  life 
to  which  he  is  born. ' '  He  describes  a  high  grade  feeble- 
minded, now  called  a  moron,  as : 

"One  who  is  capable  of  earning  a  living  under  favor- 

[58] 


FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS 

able  circumstances,  but  is  incapable,  from  mental  defect 
existing  from  birth,  or  from  an  early  age,  (a)  of  com- 
peting on  equal  terms  with  his  normal  brothers;  or  (b)  of 
managing  himself  and  his  affairs  with  ordinary  pru- 
dence." From  the  examination  of  hundreds  of  children 
with  the  earlier  forms  of  the  measuring  scales  of  intelli- 
gence it  was  found  that  no  inmates  of  institutions  for  the 
feeble-minded  had  an  intelligence  above  twelve  years, — 
except  a  few  who  had  been  placed  in  the  institution 
mainly  for  delinquency  and  whose  ability  otherwise  to  get 
along  in  the  world  was  demonstrated.  From  this  it  has 
come  about  that  twelve  year  intelligence  is  usually  con- 
sidered the  upper  limit  of  feeble-mindedness  or  the  lower 
limit  of  normality. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  impossible  to  draw  any  hard 
and  fast  line.  That  is  evident  from  the  definitions  of 
Tredgold  already  quoted;  since  it  is  clear  that  some  en- 
vironments require  much  higher  intelligence  than  others 
and  it  is  common  to  say  that  people  who  could  get  along 
fairly  well  in  the  world  a  hundred  years  ago  when  con- 
ditions were  much  simpler  would  be  utterly  incapable 
in  the  present  day  and  would  therefore  be  considered, 
according  to  the  definition,  as  feeble-minded. 

Perhaps  more  careful  study  may  eventually  show  that 
the  line  is  to  be  drawn  at  the  beginning  of  the  adolescent 
period  and  that  those  persons  who  are  arrested  in  their 
brain  development  previous  to  the  onset  of  puberty  must 
be  considered  mentally  defective,  while  those  whose  de- 
velopment goes  on  into  the  adolescent  period,  but  stops 
before  its  completion,  will  range  from  a  dull  mentality 
(the  so  called  dull  normal  person)  up  to  a  level  of  consid- 
erable intelligence  but  short  of  complete  development, 
and  only  those  whose  mental  growth  (the  elaboration  of 

[59] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

whose  neuron  patterns  continues  thru  the  adolescent 
period  will  be  capable  of  the  highest  intelligence.  This 
latter  point  brings  us  back  to  our  hypothetical  assump- 
tion of  twenty  years  as  the  limit  of  brain  development. 
If  this  view  should  prove  to  be  a  fact  it  would  emphasize 
the  importance  of  what  Dr.  Crampton  calls  physiological 
age.  This  principle  of  physiological  age,  the  fact  that 
children  vary  widely  in  the  time  when  new  physiological 
functions  such  as  those  of  puberty  develop,  has  not  been 
made  use  of  to  the  extent  that  it  deserves. 

Going  down  the  scale  of  mental  development  it  has  be- 
come customary  to  call  those  mental  defectives  who  have 
a  mentality  of  from  eight  to  twelve  years,  morons ;  those 
who  range  from  three  to  seven,  imbeciles;  and  those  of 
two  or  under,  idiots. 

In  the  foregoing  we  have  been  speaking  of  cases  of  ar- 
rested development,  and  have  stated  that  it  is  now  pos- 
sible to  ascertain  the  mental  age  or  intelligence  level  of 
any  person.  Our  next  problem  is,  given  the  intelligence 
level  of  a  person,  how  do  we  know  that  his  development 
has  absolutely  ceased?  In  answer,  two  things  must  be 
noted :  First,  theoretically  we  can  never  be  certain  from 
a  singe  examination  that  the  person  is  arrested  in  his 
development.  He  may  be  slowing  down  but  not  yet 
stopped.  The  smallest  amount  of  data  from  which  we 
could  draw  a  conclusion  would  be  two  examinations  suf- 
ficiently far  apart  to  warrant  us  in  concluding  that  there 
should  have  been  development;  and  if  the  examination 
shows  none,  we  may  conclude  that  complete  arrest  has 
taken  place.  But  secondly,  experience  with  such  people 
has  enabled  us  to  make  more  or  less  probable  guesses. 

Binet  says  that  for  children  under  nine  years  of  age, 
those  whose  mental  age  is  found  to  be  two  years  below 

[60] 


ARREST  OF  DEVELOPMENT 

their  chronological  age  are  to  be  considered  mentally  de- 
fective. Those  nine  years  and  older  must  be  three  years 
backward  before  it  is  safe  to  draw  that  conclusion.  Ex- 
perience has  abundantly  proved  that  Binet  was  well  with- 
in the  facts  in  his  rules.  But  care  must  be  taken  as  to 
what  inferences  are  drawn  from  this  conclusion.  Binet 's 
dictum  implies  nothing  as  to  whether  the  individual  has 
come  to  complete  arrest.  As  stated,  experience  has 
proved  that  such  persons  will  be  mentally  defective ;  but 
it  does  not  show  that  they  will  never  have  a  higher  mental 
age  than  at  the  time  they  are  tested.  In  other  words, 
one  examination,  tho  it  shows  that  a  child  is  more  than 
two  or  three  years  backward,  does  not  yet  show  us  that 
he  has  come  to  an  absolute  arrest,  but  only  that  he  is  so 
far  backward  that  he  will  ultimately  be  arrested  in  de- 
velopment. We  may  have  caught  the  child  when  he  is 
slowing  down  but  has  not  yet  stopped. 

Again  experience  has  proved  that  these  cases  have 
a  slowing  down  period  of  probably  from  one  to  three 
years.  Moreover  the  slowing  down  process  may  begin 
at  any  time  during  childhood.  The  exact  limits  are 
as  yet  unknown.  Of  course,  with  the  idiot  the  matter 
is  relatively  quickly  settled;  with  the  imbecile  less 
quickly  and  with  the  moron  it  becomes  a  problem 
for  a  number  of  years.  Some  morons  are  appar- 
ently normal  in  development  until  five  or  six  years  of 
age,  possibly  up  to  seven  or  eight,  and  then  have  a  period 
of  three  or  four  years  of  slowing  down  until  they  come 
to  complete  arrest.  A  child  now  in  the  Vineland  Train- 
ing School  admitted  at  the  age  of  two,  showed  at  that 
time  a  normal  mentality  of  2,  at  the  age  of  two  and  a 
half  he  tested  2.5 ;  at  the  age  of  three  years  nine  months 
he  tested  4.4,  but  at  the  age  of  five  he  tested  4.2.  At  five 

[61] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

and  a  half  he  tested  4.8.  Now  at  the  age  of  six  and  a  half 
he  tests  4.6.  We  give  the  exact  results  of  the  test.  It  is 
not  probable  that  he  gained  and  lost  as  the  figures  would 
seem  to  indicate.  A  single  test  question  accidentally 
gained  or  lost  would  cause  the  difference.  It  is  clear 
that  he  is  slowing  down  and  if  one  dared  predict  it  seems 
probable  that  he  will  come  to  complete  arrest  somewhere 
around  eight  years. 

It  does  not  appear  likely  that  all  such  defectives  have 
the  same  rate  of  slowing  down;  some  probably  reach 
the  stopping  point  more  quickly  than  others,  just  as  some 
begin  the  slowing  down  process  at  an  earlier  age  than 
others.  In  Fig.  35  is  shown  the  curve  of  the  above  case 
(D)  and  also  several  others  showing  similar  slowing 
down  but  at  different  ages  and  rates.  Also  it  must  be 
noted  that  the  path  by  which  the  child  comes  to  his  com- 
plete arrest  of  development  is  dependent  upon  the  cause 
of  the  condition.  The  above  is  a  case  of  hereditary 
feeble-mindedness  and  what  has  been  said  has  been  with 
the  hereditary  feeble-minded  in  view.  In  the  cases  of 
disease  or  injury  there  is  a  different  state  of  affairs. 
The  child  who  becomes  feeble-minded  from  a  fall  or  an 
injury  to  the  head  would  of  course  stop  development 
almost  at  once,  as  would  probably  those  cases  that  are 
the  result  of  disease  such  as  cerebro-spinal  meningitis. 

The  condition  of  neurons  in  the  feeble-minded  and 
other  cases  of  arrested  mental  development. 

It  will  further  elucidate  both  the  problem  of  arrested 
development  and  the  neuron  basis  of  mind  to  consider 
briefly  the  brain  condition  in  cases  of  arrested  develop- 
ment. The  study  of  the  feeble-minded,  while  still  very 
incomplete,  has  given  us  some  very  important  data  bear- 
ing upon  this  topic.  First,  in  gross  anatomy,  the  brain 

[62] 


THE  BRAIN  OF  DEFECTIVES 

of  a  case  of  arrested  development  does  not  usually  differ 
from  the  normal  brain;  size  and  shape  of  head  have  as 
a  rule  no  correlation  with  arrest  of  development.  There 
is  one  marked  exception,  a  type  of  mental  defective 
known  as  microcephalic  (small  headed) ;  they  are,  how- 
ever, so  few  as  to  be  marked  cases  in  any  group  of  de- 
fectives. 

Even  the  external  appearance  of  the  brain  itself 
shows  no  condition  characteristic  of  feeble-mindedness. 
The  number  of  convolutions  is  not  markedly  different 
from  the  normal.  Indeed,  of  a  hundred  brains,  half  of 
which  would  be  the  brains  of  mental  defectives,  ranging 
from  idiocy  up,  it  is  probable  that  no  neurologist,  how- 
ever familiar  with  brain  convolutions,  would  be  able  to 
group  the  brains  accurately,  not  even  those  of  the  idiots. 
We  do  not  mean  that  many  idiot  brains  are  not  mark- 
edly "  defective, "  and  unmistakably  abnormal,  but  we 
mean  to  say  that  many  an  idiot  brain  is  in  outward  ap- 
pearance well  within  the  limits  of  variation  found  in 
normal  brains ;  and  the  more  experience  one  has  had  with 
normal  brains  the  less  likely  he  is  to  feel  sure  that  a 
certain  brain  that  is  more  or  less  atypical  is  the  brain  of 
an  abnormal  person.  Compare  the  two  brains  here  pic- 
tured (Fig.  36). 

This  only  means  that  the  difference  between  the  brain 
of  a  case  of  mental  arrest  and  that  of  a  normal  person, 
for  there  is  a  difference,  is  to  be  sought,  not  in  the  gross 
structure  but  in  the  finer  microscopic  condition  and  pos- 
sibly even  only  in  the  chemistry  of  the  neuron.  Unfor- 
tunately there  has  been  as  yet  very  little  comparative 
study  of  the  brains  of  defectives  and  normals. 

Hammarberg  (22),  who  made  one  of  the  earliest  and 
most  careful  studies  of  the  brains  of  defectives,  found 

[63] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

some  differences  that  are  classical,  but  unfortunately  the 
number  of  brains  upon  which  he  worked  are  too  few  and 
too  heterogeneous  for  safe  conclusions.  His  study  is 
based  upon  the  investigation  of  four  idiots,  two  low  grade 
and  three  middle  to  high  grade  imbeciles.  Of  these  one 
idiot  was  only  thirty-two  months  old  at  death,  one  "low 
grade  imbecile ' '  twenty  months,  one  idiot  three  years,  the 
rest  twelve  to  twenty-six  years.  One  low  grade  imbecile 
was  an  epileptic.  Several  were  clearly  cases  of  disease. 

The  accompanying  picture,  Fig.  37,  shows  the  differ- 
ence in  cell  bodies  as  Hammarberg  found  them.  He  con- 
cluded that  in  his  idiots  development  of  neurons  had 
ceased  between  six  and  nine  months  of  fetal  life ;  and  in 
the  imbeciles  during  either  late  fetal  life  or  first  year 
after  birth.  When  it  comes  to  the  brains  of  morons,  no 
study  has  yet  shown  any  difference  between  these  brains 
and  the  brains  of  normals.  This  is  undoubtedly  due  to 
the  fact  that  we  have  as  yet  no  adequate  technique  for  de- 
tecting the  differences,  since  we  have  every  reason  to 
infer  from  the  psychological  conditions  distinct  neurolog- 
ical differences.  We  shall  take  up  these  points  more  in 
detail  in  later  chapters,  but  it  will  be  of  interest  and 
value  to  point  out  here  the  general  conclusions  as  they 
have  been  worked  out,  especially  since  they  illustrate  the 
principle  of  brain  development,  neuron  growth  and 
neuron  patterns. 

From  what  has  already  been  said,  it  will  be  clear  that 
the  degree  of  mentality  or  the  mental  level  in  any  case  of 
arrested  mental  development  will  depend  upon  the  time 
when  that  arrest  occurs,  that  is,  at  what  stage  of  develop- 
ment of  the  neurons  the  arrest  takes  place. 

Children  whose  neuron  development  ceases  while  only 
a  few  of  the  neurons  are  mature  will  not  have  the  mechan- 

[64] 


o 
O 


p 

Ht 

o 

c 

1 


5 


B 


//O  V  ?77  tf 


D 


C 


Fig.  37.  Comparison  of  four  types  of  brain  cells  from  a  normal  man 
28  years  old  with  similar  ceils  from  imoecJes  and  a  14-year  idiot. 
Note  relative  size  —  all  are  magnified  in  the  same  proportion  —  and 
number  of  processes.  A.  Giant  cells  from  gyrus  centrulis  anterior. 
B.  Pyramid  cells  from  yyrus  frontalis.  C.  Spindle  cells  from 
gyrus  centralis.  D.  Ganglion  cells  from  yyni*  occipitalis  superior. 

From  llanunarbery 


ASSOCIATION  CENTERS 

ism  necessary  for  a  high  grade  of  mentality,  while  thoce 
whose  arrest  occurs  at  a  time  when  the  neurons  are  al- 
most completely  matured  will  lack  only  a  little  of  normal 
mentality.  Fortunately  we  know  something  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  brain  at  various  ages  of  childhood. 
The  spinal  cord,  and  what  is  sometimes  called  the  brain 
stem  (the  medulla,  the  cerebellum  and  the  basal  ganglia, 
all  that  develops  from  the  primitive  cord  except  the  very 
anterior  portion),  are  well  developed  at  birth;  and  Flech- 
sig  (16)  has  shown  (Fig.  22)  that  there  are  even  some 
medullated,  mature  fibres  in  the  cerebrum  itself  and  that 
others  develop  very  rapidly  in  the  first  few  weeks  or 
months.  This  means  that  the  reflexes  and  many  if  not 
most  of  the  instincts  are  functioning  at  birth.  It  follows 
from  this  that  we  have  to  do  mostly  with  the  cerebral 
cortex  in  considering  the  physical  condition  of  various 
stages  of  mental  arrest. 

Turning  to  the  cortex,  we  find  that  the  localized  centres 
as  described  on  page  (12)  seem  to  be  fairly  well  de- 
veloped even  in  cases  of  early  arrest ;  that  is,  low  grade 
defectives,  even  idiots,  see  and  hear,  taste  and  smell,  with 
approximately  normal  capacity.  It  is  true  that  they 
seem  to  be  somewhat  dull  in  taste  and  smell,  but  that 
may  easily  be  because  there  is  an  intelligence  factor  in 
normal  capacity  in  these  lines,  involving  the  higher 
centres  and  that  the  pure  sensation  is  as  strong  in  these 
cases  as  in  normal  people. 

In  our  chart  of  brain  localization  (Fig.  19,  p.  12),  we 
found  that  there  were  large  areas  where  no  mental  func- 
tion had  been  located.  These  have  been  called  by  Flech- 
sig  association  centres,  and  have  long  been  considered  the 
seat  of  the  so  called  higher  mental  processes.  On  the 
authority  of  those  who  have  studied  these  regions  of  the 

[65] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

cortex  most  carefully,  we  are  safe  in  assuming  that 
they  contain  vast  numbers  of  association  fibres  whose 
function  is  to  bring  into  relation  all  the  other  centres 
that  record  sensations  and  originate  muscular  move- 
ment. 

Herrick  (23,  p.  290)  says:  "It  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  the  most  significant  parts  of  the  human  cerebral 
cortex  are  the  association  centres.  These  alone  are 
greatly  enlarged  in  the  human  brain  as  compared  with 
those  of  the  higher  apes.  In  the  latter  animals  the  pro- 
jection centres  are  fully  as  large  as  those  of  man,  the 
much  smaller  brain  weight  being  chiefly  due  to  the  rela- 
tively poor  development  of  the  association  centres." 

Bolton  (7)  says:  "The  frontal  association  centre  is 
the  last  part  of  the  cerebrum  to  be  developed,  and  is  the 
first  to  undergo  dissolution;  it  is  under-developed  in 
amentia  of  all  grades,  and  atrophied  in  dementia  accord- 
ing to  its  degree." 

James  has  said  that  one  difference  between  man  and 
the  lower  animals  is  that  the  lower  animals  take  in  and 
give  out,  while  man  takes  in,  works  over,  and  gives  out ; 
which  means  that  in  the  animals,  action  is  largely  reflex 
or  akin  to  reflex,  that  is  to  say,  energy  coming  in  over  a 
sensory  neuron  passes  out  directly  over  a  motor  neuron ; 
whereas  in  man  sensation  coming  in  over  a  sensory  neu- 
ron may  pass  thru  these  association  centres,  thus  de- 
veloping the  elaborate  neuron  patterns  already  described, 
before  it  passes  out  and  results  in  motion.  From  this  it 
would  follow  that  persons  in  whom  these  centres  were  not 
developed  would  be  incapable  of  the  working-over  proc- 
ess, or  of  making  the  associations  referred  to.  Their 
mentality  would  be  only  such  as  could  be  carried  on  by 
simpler  neuron  patterns;  and  the  elaborate  patterns 

[66] 


SUMMARY 

which  are  assumed  to  underlie  deep  thot,  abstract 
principles,  careful  judgment  and  logical  reasoning  are 
impossible. 

Referring  again  to  Flechsig  and  other  students  we  find 
that  these  association  centres  are,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
last  to  develop.  We  may  therefore  complete  our  picture 
of  brain  development  and  brain  functioning  by  imagining 
that  arrest  of  development  at  various  ages  of  childhood 
finds  these  association  centres  correspondingly  incom- 
plete. The  details  of  this  must  be  worked  out  in  con- 
nection with  later  topics,  but  it  is  important  at  this  time 
to  grasp  the  concept  of  the  limitation  of  brain  patterns 
owing  to  incomplete  development  of  these  centres,  which 
leads  us  to  the  very  important  point  of  view  that  cases  of 
arrested  development  who  lack  judgment,  reasoning 
power  and  volition  are  not  simply  cases  of  lack  of  edu- 
cation but  are  persons  of  little  judgment  because  they 
have  not  the  developed  brain  cells  necessary  for  the 
elaboration  of  mental  processes  sufficient  to  give  the  judg- 
ment. 

We  are  now  ready  to  take  up  the  consideration  of  vari- 
ous mental  processes.  We  shall  note  the  development  of 
those  processes  in  various  degrees  of  mental  defect  and 
try  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  reason  for  that  defect  in 
the  condition  of  the  neurons. 

Summary. 

1.  The  growth  of  neurons  often  stops  before  complete 
development  is  reached,  giving  rise  to  mental  defectives. 

2.  Society  is  made  up  of  persons  of  all  grades  of  intel- 
ligence. 

3.  Mental  defectives  are  not  simply  ignorant.     They 
either  lack  neuron  development  or — in  rare  instances — 

[67] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

have  not  had  the  proper  stimuli  to  arouse  their  neuron 
patterns — defectives  by  deprivation. 

4.  If  mental  arrest  occurs  at  twelve  years  or  less — 
perhaps  before  the  beginning  of  puberty — the  person  is 
feeble-minded. 

5.  The  feeble-minded  are  divided  into  idiots,  imbeciles 
and  morons. 

6.  The  mental  level  can  be  determined  by  suitable  tests. 

7.  In  the  feeble-minded  the  three  " association  areas" 
are  probably  the  parts  of  the  brain  most  deficient  in 
growth.    Other  parts  of  brain  and  nervous  system  are 
relatively  little  affected  except  in  very  low  grades. 

8.  Since  the  higher  mental  processes  depend  upon  the 
association  areas,  the  cause  of  feeble-mindedness  may  be 
sought  in  the  defective  development  of  these  areas. 


[68] 


CHAPTER  IV 

SOME  PROPERTIES  INHERENT  IN  THE 
NERVOUS  MECHANISM 

ANY  mechanism  as  elaborate  as  the  nervous  system  has 
some  properties  inherent  in  its  very  nature.  These  prop- 
erties must  now  be  considered  because  they  are  funda- 
mental for  the  beginnings  of  mind. 

First  we  note  that  out  of  this  mechanism,  consciousness 
arises.  No  one  knows  just  how  this  comes  about;  but 
we  have  tried  by  more  or  less  plausible  hypotheses  to  give 
the  reader  a  working  plan  of  how  it  might  be,  so  that  he 
may  have  something  concrete  and  tangible  to  think  about. 
We  have  assumed  that  there  are  neuron  patterns,  some 
comparatively  simple  and  some  exceedingly  complex, 
with  all  gradations  between.  Just  as  the  child  starts  in 
life  with  muscles  ready  to  contract,  digestive  organs 
ready  to  function,  and  many  other  mechanisms  ready  to 
work,  so  he  has  numerous  neuron  patterns  fully  de- 
veloped needing  only  the  proper  stimulus  to  arouse  them 
to  action.  These  neurons  have  certain  properties  and 
are  organized  to  work  in  definite  ways. 

At  least  one  mental  process  is  the  direct  consequence 
of  the  nature  of  the  neuron  and  at  least  two  fundamental 
processes  are  the  natural  consequences  of  the  fact  that 
neurons  are  organized  into  patterns. 

Memory. — Of  the  properties  inherent  in  nervous  tissue, 
we  shall  consider  irritability  because  this  is  the  basis  of 
memory.  Irritability  is  that  property  of  living  matter 
by  which  it  responds  to  a  stimulus.  Nervous  tissue  is 

[69] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

probably  the  most  high  organized  substance  in  the  world. 
Therefore  we  have  a  right  to  assume  it  is  the  most  irri- 
table— responds  most  delicately  and  characteristically 
to  stimulation.  A  further  consequence  must  be  that  in 
such  a  highly  organized  substance,  stimulation  must  pro- 
duce not  only  a  temporary  response  but  a  more  or  less 
permanent  effect. 

Herrick  (23)  (p.  294-5)  says:  "All  functions  of  the 
nervous  system  are  facilitated  by  repetition,  and  many 
such  repetitions  lead  to  an  enduring  change  in  the  mode 
of  response  to  stimulation  which  may  be  called  physio- 
logical habit.  This  implies  that  the  performance  of 
every  reaction  leaves  some  sort  of  residual  change  in  the 
structure  of  the  neuron  systems  involved.  These  ac- 
quired modifications  of  behaviour  are  manifested  in  some 
degree  by  all  organisms,  and  this  capacity  lies  at  the  basis 
of  all  associative  memory  (whether  consciously  or  un- 
consciously performed)  and  the  capacity  of  learning  by 
experience.  This  modifiability  thru  individual  experi- 
ence is  possessed  by  the  cerebral  cortex  in  higher  degree 
than  by  any  other  part  of  the  nervous  system;  and  the 
capacity  for  reacting  to  stimuli  in  terms  of  past  experi- 
ence as  well  as  of  the  present  situation  lies  at  the  basis  of 
that  docility  and  intelligent  adaptation  of  means  to  ends 
which  are  characteristic  of  the  higher  mammals." 

When  a  stimulus  is  applied  and  neurokyme  flows  over 
a  given  line  of  neurons,  those  neurons  are  somehow 
changed,  and  changed  more  or  less  permanently. 
Whether  this  is  the  result  of  a  change  in  their  chemical 
composition  or  in  their  molecular  arrangement  we  can 
only  guess.  This  condition,  however,  is  not  without  anal- 
ogies in  other  realms  of  nature.  For  example,  when  a 
piece  of  steel  is  heated  and  cooled  it  is  found  to  be  radi- 

[70] 


INHERENT  MEMORY 

cally  changed.  Whereas  before  heating  it  was  elastic  and 
springy,  after  heating  it  is  pliable  and  ductile.  Again, 
when  a  steel  rod  or  wire  has  had  a  current  of  electricity 
sent  through  it  in  a  definite  way,  it  is  changed.  It  has 
become  magnetized.  In  this  case  the  change  is  supposed 
to  be  due  to  a  change  in  the  molecular  arrangement. 

To  return  to  our  nerve  cells,  the  important  fact  for 
present  consideration  is  that  the  change  in  the  condition 
of  the  neuron  shows  in  consciousness  when  the  stimulus 
is  again  applied.  The  neurokyme  appears  to  flow  under 
changed  conditions.  Perhaps  it  flows  faster;  perhaps 
slower ;  it  may  be  with  greater  difficulty  or  possibly  with 
greater  ease.  The  new  element  in  consciousness,  usually 
described  as  a  feeling  of  familiarity,  results  in  a  recogni- 
tion of  the  fact  that  we  have  had  this  experience  before, 
and  we  say  we  remember  it.  Memory  as  thus  described 
is  therefore  a  property  of  nervous  tissue. 

The  first  time  a  loud  sound  strikes  the  baby's  ear  it 
arouses  the  inherited  neuron  pattern  in  the  auditory  cen- 
tre and  he  has,  as  we  have  explained,  a  sensation  of 
sound.  The  next  time  the  same  stimulus  is  applied  it 
comes  with  that  changed  condition  which  gives  the  new 
element  of  consciousness  that  we  call  the  feeling  of  famil- 
iarity, and  the  baby  is  conscious  that  he  has  heard  that 
sound  before. 

Because  of  this  property,  any  neuron  pattern  once 
aroused  by  a  given  stimulus  tends  to  be  aroused  in  the 
same  way  again,  giving  rise  to  the  same  consciousness 
with  the  added  feeling  of  familiarity,  in  which  case  the 
stimulus  is  remembered.  This  may  be  called  inherent 
memory — inherent  in  the  nature  of  nervous  substance. 
It  is  also  called  natural  retentiveness. 

Wherever  there  are  neuron  patterns,  be  they  simple  or 

[71] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

elaborate,  there  will  be  this  memory.  It  is  not  subject  to 
training  or  education.  It  is  not  influenced  by  intelli- 
gence. It  may  be  a  factor  in  intelligence  since  it  enables 
one  to  recall  many  experiences,  and  experiences  are  of 
fundamental  importance  for  intelligence.  Good  natural 
retentiveness  means  that  every  neuron  pattern  that  has 
been  in  activity  may  be  aroused  again  in  the  same  way. 
Poor  natural  retentiveness  means  that  the  nervous  tissue 
is  of  such  quality  that  the  impression  is  not  retained  in 
all  cases.  Disease  and  fatigue  may  affect  the  condition 
of  the  nervous  tissue  and  thus  interfere  with  its  reten- 
tiveness, but  among  healthy  persons  there  is  apparently 
very  little  difference  in  the  quality  of  the  nervous  tissue 
hence  very  little  difference  in  the  capacity  for  retentive- 
ness. 

What  is  thot  to  be  poor  memory  is  first,  poor  as- 
sociative memory  which  will  be  considered  later;  and 
second,  poor  stimulation.  The  experience  that  we  do 
not  remember  was  never  adequately  in  consciousness — 
the  neuron  pattern  was  not  fully  aroused  or  was  not 
aroused  with  sufficient  energy;  to  revert  to  our  illustra- 
tion of  the  magnetized  iron,  the  magnetism  is  weak  be- 
cause the  electric  current  sent  thru  it  was  not  of  sufficient 
strength. 

Imagination.  The  feeling  of  familiarity  may  be  lost. 
The  neuron  pattern  if  not  soon  aroused  again  seems  to 
lose  the  impression  originally  made  and  when  finally 
aroused,  the  same  consciousness  results  but  without  the 
added  feeling  of  familiarity;  hence  the  experience  is  not 
remembered. 

Imagination  is  literally  imaging,  and  the  image  has 
been  defined  by  Binet  as  "a  phenomenon  which  results 
from  an  excitation  of  the  cortex."  This  makes  it  cover 

[72] 


IMAGINATION 

the  two  concepts  of  perception  and  idea.  It  has  more 
often  been  considered  synonymous  with  idea.  That  is, 
we  use  the  term  mental  image  as  descriptive  of  a  simple 
state  of  consciousness  aroused,  not  directly  by  an  external 
stimulus,  but  indirectly  from  another  centre  of  the  brain. 
For  instance,  at  the  present  moment  I  have  a  mental 
image  (visual)  of  a  building  in  another  city.  I  have  a 
mental  image  (auditory)  of  Lohengrin's  Wedding 
March;  I  have  a  mental  image  (olfactory)  of  the  odour 
of  coffee,  of  the  taste  of  sugar  (gustatory),  of  a  cater- 
pillar crawling  over  my  neck  (tactual).  All  of  these  are, 
of  course,  previous  experiences  revived,  and  run  so 
closely  into  memory  that  it  is  possible  to  describe  all  of 
them  by  saying  I  remember  them. 

It  has  been  said  that  imagination  is  memory  minus  the 
date,  that  is  to  say,  the  image  is  not  referred  to  a  definite 
past  experience.  The  image  of  the  aroma  of  coffee  is  not 
the  image  of  the  coffee  that  I  had  for  breakfast  this  morn- 
ing, or  on  any  other  particular  occasion,  but  just  the 
aroma  of  coffee  without  being  located  in  any  past  time ; 
likewise  my  image  of  a  building  in  a  distant  city.  I  may 
be  conscious  that  I  have  seen  such  a  building,  but  I  can- 
not tell  when  and  indeed  I  may  be  forced  to  say  that  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  have  ever  seen  it.  But  if  my  image  is 
reasonably  true  to  the  facts,  it  is  certain  that  I  have  at 
some  time  actually  had  the  experience. 

In  other  words,  all  these  cases  are  simply  instances 
of  an  old  neuron  pattern  revived,  either  by  word  or  by 
association  with  something  else  that  is  now  present  in 
experience.  This  kind  of  imagination  is  called  repro- 
ductive imagination.  I  have  simply  reproduced  an  old 
experience  and  as  already  stated,  if  that  old  experience  is 
definitely  located  in  past  time,  I  properly  say  I  remember 

[73] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

it.  But  if  the  fact  of  its  having  been  experienced  has  been 
lost,  and  the  image  comes  into  my  mind  without  being 
definitely  located  in  time,  I  call  the  experience  repro- 
ductive imagination. 

Such  imagination  involves  only  simple  neuron  pat- 
terns and  therefore  is  possible  for  undeveloped  minds 
and  even  for  animals.  Any  neuron  pattern  once  devel- 
oped may  be  revived  at  any  time,  and  may  be  revived  un- 
der such  circumstances  that  it  is  not  located  in  time  or 
place.  This,  however,  is  not  what  is  popularly  consid- 
ered imagination.  This  is  imagination  in  the  psycho- 
logical sense  of  a  reproduced  image. 

Every  one  knows  that  children  have  both  memory  and 
imagination,  but  the  reader  may  be  surprised,  as  are  many 
people,  to  learn  that  the  feeble-minded  also  have  both 
memory  and  imagination ;  and  yet  it  is  clear  that,  as  only 
simple  neuron  patterns  of  the  inherited  type  are  involved, 
there  is  no  reason  why  defectives  who  have  any  neuron 
patterns  at  all  should  not  have  both  memory  and  imagin- 
ation as  we  have  so  far  described  them.  It  is  very  com- 
mon to  hear  teachers  or  parents  question  the  diagnosis  of 
f eeble-mindedness  for  any  particular  child,  because  he  has 
a  remarkable  memory.  But  any  one  who  has  become  fam- 
iliar thru  experience  with  feeble-minded  children,  knows 
that  this  is  not  incompatible  with  f  eeble-mindedness.  In- 
deed there  are  occasionally  truly  remarkable  feats  of 
memory  among  the  feeble-minded.  The  writer  spent  a 
day  in  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  several  years 
ago.  Two  years  later  he  returned  for  another  visit  and 
was  amazed  to  find  several  of  the  children  remembered 
him  and  called  him  by  name.  Marjorie  B.  was  born  in 
China.  She  can  recite  to  you  a  long  story  about  her  birth- 
place and  her  family.  Kobert  was  very  fond  of  recitation 

[74] 


MEMORY  IN  DEFECTIVES 

and  learned  a  great  many  selections.  He  never  forgot 
them,  could  at  any  time  repeat  any  selection  that  was 
called  for.  Feeble-minded  children  are  very  fond  of 
music  and  in  one  school  the  children  are  taught  all  the 
hymns  and  new  songs.  As  new  ones  are  learned,  the  old 
ones  are  not  sung.  A  few  years  ago  the  teacher  of  music 
was  asked  to  find  out  how  many  of  the  old  songs  the  chil- 
dren could  still  sing.  Accordingly,  some  weeks  were  de- 
voted to  singing  the  old  songs.  More  than  two  hundred 
were  thus  revived,  many  of  which  the  leader  himself  had 
long  since  forgotten.  Not  only  were  there  children  who 
remembered  the  words,  but  there  were  always  some  who 
could  remember  the  tune. 

"Fire-alarm  Joe"  remembered  the  exact  dates  of  all 
the  fires  that  had  occurred  within  a  certain  radius  of  his 
home  in  the  city,  could  tell  just  what  engines  responded, 
and  other  facts  about  each  fire.  Occasionally  one  finds  in 
some  of  these  institutions  a  child  that  remembers  birth- 
days. He  asks  the  birth  date  of  everybody  that  he  meets 
and  then  never  forgets  it. 

Even  idiots  very  clearly  show  memory,  tho  of  course, 
for  very  simple  things.  In  the  nature  of  the  case  it  is  not 
so  easy  to  prove  that  they  have  imagination,  since  the 
only  difference  between  reproductive  imagination,  of 
which  we  have  thus  far  spoken,  and  memory  is  the  date ; 
and  it  requires  introspection  to  tell  whether  the  date  has 
been  lost  or  not.  An  observer  is  unable  to  satisfy  him- 
self whether  it  is  imagination  or  memory.  There  are, 
however,  instances  where  children  repeat  an  action  that 
they  have  performed  before  and  yet  very  evidently  have 
no  conscious  memory  of  the  previous  experience. 

The  explanation  of  the  remarkable  feats  of  memory 
of  the  feeble-minded  seems  to  be  that,  since,  as  we  shall 

[75] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

see  later,  they  do  not  have  the  elaborate  associations  that 
normal  people  have,  the  entire  nerve  energy  must  run  in 
a  few  patterns,  thus  keeping  them  all  active.  The  busi- 
ness man  does  not  remember  all  the  fire  alarms  because 
so  many  other  stimuli  that  arouse  more  elaborate  pat- 
terns come  to  him.  It  is  sometimes  said  that  modern 
man  is  losing  the  power  of  memory  and  in  proof  certain 
wonderful  memory  feats  of  the  ancients  are  cited.  This 
is  simply  an  illusion.  In  ancient  times  there  were  no 
telephones,  telegraph,  airplanes,  or  railroad  trains.  The 
brains  of  the  ancients  did  not  have  to  respond  to  so  many 
stimuli,  hence  what  did  come  to  them  could  be  lived  over 
and  remembered.  Today  people  who  live  in  isolated 
communities  remember  quantities  of  details  that  the  man 
of  affairs  forgets  because  his  mind  is  occupied  with  other 
things. 

We  have  seen  that  memory  and  imagination  in  their 
simple  forms  are  mental  processes  resulting  from,  or  in- 
herent in,  the  nature  of  nervous  tissue.  We  next  con- 
sider those  processes  that  are  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
the  mechanism  of  the  nervous  system — the  fact  that 
there  are  neurons  and  synapses,  neurokyme,  stimuli  and 
muscles. 

Attention. — We  have  made  much  of  nerve  action — the 
neurokyme  flowing  thru  the  neuron  patterns.  This  ac- 
tion when  sufficiently  complex  results  in  consciousness. 
It  is  a  logical  deduction  that  the  more  complex  patterns 
give  rise  to  larger  and  more  i-ntense  consciousness;  and 
further,  that  if  a  number  of  these  patterns  happen  to  be 
aroused  at  the  same  time  there  would  generally  be  some 
stimulus  so  much  stronger  than  the  rest  as  to  arouse  a 
more  intense  consciousness  and  thus  obscure  the  others, 
and  we  should  be  conscious  of  that  stimulus  to  the  more 

[76] 


ATTENTION 

or  less  complete  neglect  of  the  others.  This  is  attention ; 
and  it  is  customary  to  say  that  we  are  attending  to  that 
particular  stimulus ;  or  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  attention. 
It  is  common  to  define  attention  as  the  focus  or  the  focus- 
ing of  consciousness.  We  prefer  to  describe  it  as  above, 
and  thus  avoid  the  implication  that  "we"  do  any  focus- 
ing or  concentrating  or  attending.  The  stimulus  arouses 
the  consciousness  and  that  consciousness  is  the  attention. 

Which  one  of  the  many  stimuli  constantly  reaching  the 
brain  will  arouse  the  stronger  consciousness  and  therefore 
"hold  the  attention"  depends  upon  first,  the  strength  of 
the  stimulus  and,  second,  the  degree  of  ease  with  which 
the  nerve  energy  flows  into  an  elaborate  neuron  pattern. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  stronger  stimulus  will 
arouse  the  greater  consciousness  and  we  attend  to  that 
stimulus.  On  the  other  hand  the  inherited  neuron  pat- 
terns, being  ready  prepared  to  receive  their  specific 
stimuli,  will  in  general  respond  more  easily  l  than  ac- 
quired patterns.  Therefore,  "we  attend"  to  those  stim- 
uli for  which  we  have  an  inherited  pattern  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  those  stimuli  for  which  we  have  only  an  acquired 
pattern.  Nevertheless,  it  is  probably  true  that  an  ac- 
quired pattern  may,  by  use,  become  so  easy  of  arousal 
that  the  consciousness  accompanying  it  becomes  even 
greater  than  that  of  an  inherited  pattern — especially  if, 
on  the  one  hand,  the  latter  has  been  relatively  little  used, 

i  "Ease  of  flow"  of  the  neurokyme  is  a  convenient  concept  to  explain 
the  changes  in  consciousness.  It  must  be  kept  in  mind,  however,  that  we 
really  know  nothing  of  the  actual  changes  in  the  transmission  of  energy 
thru  the  neurons  or  even  whether  the  difference  is  in  the  neurons  or  at  the 
synapses.  In  another  place  we  have  suggested  the  latter.  Moreover,  if  for 
convenience  we  adopt  the  concept  of  degree  of  ease  of  flow,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  degree  that  means  the  acme  of  consciousness  is  per- 
haps not  the  greatest  ease,  since  we  also  conceive  that  when  the  neurokyme 
flows  with  the  highest  degree  of  ease,  there  being  no  resistance,  there  is 
no  consciousness. 

[77] 


or  on  the  other,  has  been  used  so  much  that  the  stimulus 
leads  to  its  natural  action  with  so  little  interference  that 
a  minimum  of  consciousness  is  aroused. 

We  call  the  state  of  attention  that  results  from  the  ac- 
tivity of  an  inherited  neuron  pattern,  instinctive  or  in- 
herited attention  and  that  which  comes  from  an  acquired 
pattern,  acquired  attention.  The  former  has  usually 
been  called  involuntary  or  passive  attention  and  the  latter, 
voluntary  or  active  attention.  We  prefer  our  terminol- 
ogy because  the  other  implies  a  directing  force  for  the 
attention  which  is  a  purely  gratuitous  assumption  and 
leads  to  much  confusion.  According  to  this  view,  atten- 
tion is  only  a  name  for  the  maximum  consciousness  at 
any  given  moment  and  is  dependent  upon  the  character 
of  the  stimulus  and  the  neuron  pattern. 

There  apparently  may  also  be  a  second  centre  in  ac- 
tivity, giving  rise  to  a  vague  consciousness  which  we  rec- 
ognize as  a  marginal  consciousness.  There  may  even  be 
an  alternation  between  these  two,  now  one  predominating 
and  now  another.  Then  we  say  our  attention  fluctuates, 
as  for  instance  when  one  tries  to  listen  to  a  friend  and 
also  think  what  one  will  say  in  reply,  or  when  one  tries 
to  attend  to  the  task  in  hand  but  some  other  matter  "  per- 
sists in  forcing  itself  on  the  attention." 

Immature  mind  is  capable  of  instinctive  attention.  The 
lowest  idiot,  like  the  normal  infant,  turns  his  head  at  a 
loud  sound  or  a  bright  light.  Of  course  it  is  impossible 
always  to  say  that  such  movements  are  not  reflex,  but  if 
conscious  in  the  normal  infant  they  are  probably  so  in 
the  idiot.  Moreover,  the  range  of  stimuli  to  which  de- 
fectives attend  gradually  increases  as  we  ascend  the  in- 
telligence scale  and  parallels  more  or  less  closely  the 
development  of  the  same  process  in  the  growing  normal 

[78] 


ft       S 
co        o 


c 

<D 

S 

Q       $J 


.   c 
oo  - 


Fig.  39.  Brain  of  ease  pictured  in  Fig.  38.  The  occipi- 
tal cortex  is  little  moje  than  a  membrane.  Micro- 
scopic examination  showed  that  the  cells  had  never 
developed. 


child.  Inasmuch  as  the  idiot  often  has  limited  brain 
areas  it  is  again  evident  that  instinctive  attention  is  com- 
patible with  very  simple  brain  mechanism. 

The  accompanying  picture,  Fig.  38,  is  that  of  an  idiot 
twenty-two  years  old,  mentality  1  to  2.  Fig.  39  repre- 
sents the  brain  of  the  same  case.  It  will  be  noted  that  the 
cortex  of  the  occipital  region  is  almost  entirely  lacking. 
The  child  was  microcephalic  and  also  hydrocephalic,  yet 
so  "normal,"  for  his  grade,  were  his  reactions  that  no  one 
ever  suspected  such  a  condition.  According  to  accepted 
views  of  brain  localizaton  he  could  have  had  only  the 
slightest  if  any  consciousness  of  vision;  yet  he  smiled 
when  one  approached  his  chair  as  well  as  when  spoken  to. 
He  seemed  to  respond  to  the  smell  of  food  and  gave  other 
indications  of  instinctive  attention. 

It  is  easy  to  understand,  once  this  view  has  been  mas- 
tered, that  we  do  not  focus  our  attention  upon  any  one 
thing;  but  rather,  when  a  stimulus  is  applied,  a  certain 
group  of  neurons  are  set  into  activity  and  consciousness 
results.  For  example,  no  matter  what  one  is  doing  a  loud 
noise  will  instantly  " attract  attention."  We  shall  more 
accurately  describe  what  happens,  if  we  say  there  is  a 
ready  formed,  instinctive  pattern  to  which  the  stimulus 
of  a  loud  noise  instantly  leads,  arousing  strong  activity 
with  its  accompanying  consciousness.  But  what  becomes 
of  the  consciousness  existent  when  the  loud  noise  inter- 
rupted us?  The  answer  is,  it  is  eclipsed  by  the  greater 
consciousness  aroused  by  the  new  stimulus,  and  this 
principle  must  be  borne  in  mind  thruout:  the  greater 
eclipses  the  less. 

Of  two  neuron  patterns,  each  in  activity,  that  one 
which  is  more  active,  which  is  developing  the  greater 
amount  of  energy  will  monopolize  consciousness.  That 

[79] 


is  the  reason  that  as  a  rule  the  sudden  loud  noise  holds  our 
attention  in  spite  of  everything  else.  And  yet  there  are 
circumstances  under  which  one's  consciousness  is  so  in- 
tense that  even  a  fairly  loud  noise  is  not  heard.  This 
only  means  that  the  neuron  pattern,  that  was  at  the  in- 
stant active,  is  stronger  than  that  which  is  set  into  ac- 
tivity by  the  stimulus  of  the  loud  sound.  Nevertheless 
there  may  be  activity  in  the  second  area  as  is  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that  while  there  is  no  consciousness  accom- 
panying it,  nevertheless  there  is  action.  An  observer 
might  report  that  the  loud  noise  produced  a  tremor, 
start,  or  even  a  jump  in  the  individual  who  declared  that 
he  had  not  heard  the  noise. 

Indeed  we  may  go  further;  it  is  a  common  experience 
for  a  person  to  declare  that  he  has  not  heard  a  question 
asked  when  in  fact  he  had  actually  replied  to  it.  In  that 
case  it  is  clear  that  the  neuron  pattern  corresponding 
to  the  question  asked  was  in  activity,  and  even  led  to  a 
response  and  the  formation  of  words  in  reply;  and  yet 
because  some  other  centre  was  more  active  and  was  pro- 
ducing a  greater  consciousness  there  was  no  conscious- 
ness connected  with  the  first:  or,  one  probably  should 
say,  such  slight  consciousness  that  it  did  not  occupy  the 
centre  of  the  field  and  this  explains  why  we  are  often 
able  to  utilize  the  experience  without  having  been  really 
conscious  of  the  stimulus. 

Another  common  experience  is  like  the  following:  One 
is  asked  what  time  it  is,  "A  little  past  three,"  "How  da 
you  know,  did  you  hear  the  clock  strike?"  "No,  I  did 
not  hear  the  clock  strike,  but  yes,  I  believe  it  did  strike." 
The  explanation  of  this  would  seem  to  be  that  what  the 
individual  was  doing  at  the  time  so  engrossed  his  atten- 
tion, that  he  was  not  attentive  to  the  clock.  Expressed 

[80] 


DIVIDED  ATTENTION 

in  our  terminology:  here  are  two  neuron  patterns  in  ac- 
tivity ;  the  one  corresponding  to  the  particular  thing  that 
he  was  doing  at  the  time  was  so  much  more  strongly  in 
activity  that  the  striking  clock  was  not  able  to  arouse 
vivid  consciousness.  And  yet  there  was  some  little  con- 
sciousness, as  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  later  he  is  able 
to  say,  "Yes,  I  believe  I  did  hear  the  clock  strike." 
Again  the  strength  of  the  conviction  that  he  heard  the 
clock  strike  varies  all  the  way  from  almost  nothing  to  a 
high  degree.  This  may  be  explained  by  the  relative 
strength  of  the  activities  in  the  two  centres.  If  they  are 
nearly  equal  then  he  is  able  to  say,  "Yes,  I  heard  the 
clock  strike,  altho  I  was  occupied  with  something  else." 
If  the  other  stimulus  is  exceptionally  strong  so  that  rel- 
atively the  consciousness  aroused  by  the  striking  clock 
is  weak,  he  is  in  very  great  doubt  and  may  even  declare 
that  the  clock  has  not  struck. 

Similarly  a  great  many  common  experiences  are  ex- 
plained. Who  has  not  had  the  experience  of  trying  to 
recall  a  name,  and  being  constantly  baffled  by  the  intru- 
sion of  a  name  which  he  knows  is  not  correct.  The  re- 
sults of  what  is  called  free  association  abundantly  demon- 
strate the  action  of  this  principle,  and  are  easily  ex- 
plained in  this  way.  For  example,  let  the  reader  get 
some  one  to  pronounce  a  list  of  words  to  him  with  the  un- 
derstanding that  he  is  to  respond  to  each  word  with  the 
first  word  that  comes  into  his  mind;  and  after  each  re- 
sponse let  him  stop  and  ask  himself  how  he  happened  to 
make  that  response,  how  he  came  to  think  of  that  particu- 
lar word.  In  every  case  he  will  find  that  the  word  has 
come  to  him  in  such  a  way  that  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the 
nerve  energy  aroused  by  the  stimulus  word  has  run  into 
its  own  neuron  pattern  and  given  rise  to  a  consciousness 

[81] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

which  was  expressed  by  the  word  with  which  he  re- 
sponded. 

The  chief  objection  to  the  foregoing  view  is  the  insist- 
ent feeling  that  we  do  somehow  direct  our  attention; 
whereas  the  above  view  makes  us  helpless  in  the  matter, 
and  we  become  the  victims  of  pure  chance,  or  better,  of 
our  previous  experience.  Many  an  intelligent  reader 
will  be  inclined  to  say,  "I  know  that  isn't  true.  My  own 
experience  contradicts  it."  And  yet,  it  is  quite  possible 
that  our  first  or  "common  sense"  view  of  the  situation 
is  a  mistaken  one ;  that  we  are  under  a  delusion.  It  is  not 
the  only  case,  either  in  the  realm  of  psychology  or  else- 
where, that  we  think  certain  results  are  due  to  our  own 
activity  when  as  a  matter  of  fact  our  activity  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  them.  Let  us  take  the  instance  last 
cited,  of  trying  to  think  of  a  word.  Do  we  not  direct  our 
attention  first  to  one  word  and  then  to  another  until  we 
finally  get  hold  of  the  right  one!  At  first  thot  it  seems 
so,  but  let  us  see  how  we  would  explain  this  on  the  other 
theory. 

According  to  the  view  here  presented,  the  stimulus  is 
the  person,  possibly  in  the  form  of  a  mental  picture, 
whose  name  we  wish  to  find.  At  once  comes  to  mind 
the  name  Joseph  but  we  know  that  "Joseph"  is  not  cor- 
rect, then  comes  James,  and  John  and  Judith  and  Jere- 

• 

miah,  we  say  we  have  thought  of  each  one  of  these  and 
discarded  them  in  turn.  What  actually  happened  was, 
the  stimulus  aroused  the  neuron  pattern  which  spelled 
' '  Joseph, ' '  but  the  circuit  could  not  be  completed.  Then 
the  nerve  energy  flowed  into  another  group  of  neurons 
which  spelled  "James,"  and  then  "John,"  and  so  on 
thru  the  list.  "We"  were  doing  nothing,  the  nerve 
energy  was  doing  it  all.  Finally,  the  nerve  energy  flowed 

[82] 


ASSOCIATION 

into  the  neuron  pattern  which  spelled  " Justus,"  and 
that  pattern  was  worked  out  because  it  was  asociated  with 
the  individual  'a  face  or  his  activity  or  with  other  experi- 
ences with  him,  so  that  the  whole  picture  was  consistent. 

Consciousness  has  simply  told  us  what  has  happened 
but  without  telling  us  how  it  happened;  and  we  have 
made  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  the  consciousness  it- 
self was  the  cause  of  the  whole  procedure.  We  shall 
have  occasion  to  explain  and  discuss  this  principle  more 
fully  later  on. 

Another  mental  process  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the 
nervous  mechanism  is  association.  We  have  shown  in  a 
previous  chapter  how  stimuli  become  associated.  It  is 
only  necessary  to  refer  to  the  subject  here  as  another  ex- 
ample of  a  property  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  neuron 
mechanism.  Because  the  neuron  patterns  are  what  they 
are,  two  stimuli  of  about  the  same  intensity,  occurring  at 
almost  the  same  time,  become  connected  in  the  brain  and 
consequently  connected  in  consciousness,  and  we  say  they 
are  associated.  If  the  stimuli  are  not  of  approximately 
the  same  intensity,  the  one  predominates  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  other  and  that  one  alone  holds  the  field  of  con- 
sciousness or  attention. 

Since  one  or  both  of  these  neuron  patterns  may  be 
stimulated  indirectly  from  another  centre  of  the  brain, 
and  such  indirect  stimulation  results  in  the  consciousness 
that  has  been  given  the  name  idea,  as  distinguished  from 
consciousness  aroused  directly  by  an  external  stimulus 
which  is  called  perception,  it  is  common  to  speak  of  the 
association  of  ideas. 

We  have  already  shown  that  when  two  stimuli  act  at 
the  same  time  each  setting  into  activity  its  own  brain  pat- 
tern, those  brain  patterns  become  connected  or  associ- 

[83] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ated,  and  therefore  the  two  consciousnesses  aroused  by 
the  two  stimuli  are  associated,  as  when  I  hear  a  sound 
emanating  from  an  object  which  I  see,  the  sound  is  associ- 
ated with  the  object ;  and  hereafter  if  I  hear  the  sound  I 
think  of  the  object,  or  as  I  see  the  object  I  think  of  the 
sound.  This  process  is  of  fundamental  importance.  In- 
deed this  possibility  of  the  association  of  the  different 
mental  patterns,  the  yoking  them  up  together  thru  experi- 
ence, underlies  the  whole  mental  life  of  an  individual. 
Because  of  its  importance  it  becomes  desirable  to  discuss 
this  process  further. 

The  case  cited  is  an  illustration  of  what  is  commonly 
called  association  by  contiguity,  that  is,  the  two  stimuli 
are  contiguous  (literally  touching).  I  see  the  object  and, 
at  the  same  time,  hear  the  sound  that  it  produces.  With- 
out this  fact  of  contiguity,  no  association  could  take  place, 
since  each  stimulus  would  arouse  its  own  neuron  pattern 
independently  and  lead  to  its  specific  action;  or  the  en- 
ergy would  be  dissipated  and  no  connection  would  occur 
in  the  mind  of  the  person.  Life  is  full  of  such  unassoci- 
ated  experiences.  For  example:  In  my  daily  walk  to 
business  I  frequently  meet  a  certain  gentleman.  He  be- 
comes a  familiar  sight  to  me,  but  here  the  experience  ends. 
It  also  happens  that  in  conversation  with  various  friends 
they  speak  of  a  certain  Mr.  X  and  I  become  thoroly  famil- 
iar with  the  name  of  X;  but  I  may  never  connect  the 
name  of  X  with  the  gentleman  that  I  meet  on  the  street, 
unless  in  some  way  the  two  experiences  of  seeing  the 
man  and  hearing  his  name  come  at  the  same  time.  This 
may  come  about  as  follows.  While  walking  along  the 
street  I  meet  the  gentleman  and  some  one  with  me  says, 
"That  is  Mr.  X."  Now  the  association  is  made  and 
ever  after  when  I  meet  him,  I  will  think  *  *  Mr.  X, ' '  when 

[84] 


CONTIGUITY 

my  friends  speak  of  Mr.  X,  I  will  have  a  visual  image 
of  the  gentleman  as  I  have  met  him  on  the  street.  The 
two  neuron  patterns  in  my  brain  have  become  thoroly  con- 
nected. This  is  the  simplest  and  most  direct  way  of  mak- 
ing the  connection.  But  it  may  be  made  in  many  other 
ways.  From  a  neuron  pattern  standpoint  the  matter  is 
always  the  same ;  the  two  neuron  patterns  are  excited. 

It  matters  not  whether  the  pattern  is  actually  aroused 
by  the  external  stimulus  or  whether  it  is  aroused  indi- 
rectly from  some  other  centre  of  the  brain.  That  is  to 
say,  instead  of  actually  seeing  the  gentleman,  his  image 
may  be  called  up  and  that  image  connected  with  the  name. 
As  for  example,  some  one  says  to  me,  "  You  know  Mr.  X," 
I  say,  "Yes,  by  reputation,  I  have  often  heard  him  spoken 
of."  To  which  it  may  be  replied,  "But  you  know  him, 
you  meet  him  every  day ;  he  is  that  tall,  broad-shouldered 
man  that  you  meet  as  you  go  to  business."  The  descrip- 
tion of  a  broad-shouldered  man  calls  up  the  mental  imago 
of  the  gentleman,  and  now  my  friend  says,  "That  is  Mr. 
X." 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  type  of  occurrence  is  constantly 
happening;  we  thus  learn  the  names  of  people  and  objects, 
and  associate  various  qualities  and  characteristics  of  ob- 
jects. If  one  arouses  a  neuron  pattern  by  the  word  iron, 
I  immediately  think  "heavy,"  and  it  is  easy  to  see  that  I 
have  at  some  time  lifted  or  attempted  to  lift  something 
that  I  knew  was  called  iron.  I  got  certain  sensations  or 
had  a  certain  neuron  pattern  aroused  which  meant  mus- 
cular exertion  of  a  high  degree,  and  which  gives  the  con- 
sciousness "heavy."  Without  the  experience  it  would 
be  impossible  to  think  "heavy."  It  would  not  be  impos- 
sible for  me  to  say  "heavy"  because  the  association  iron 
— heavy  may  have  been  made  for  me  in  a  purely  verbal 

[85] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

i 

way.  I  may  have  been  told  that  iron  is  heavy,  conse- 
quently when  some  one  says  iron,  I  say  heavy.  But  it 
will  be  recognized  that  I  do  not  have  the  same  mental 
content  that  I  had  when  I  actually  lifted  iron.  If  I  know 
what  the  word  heavy  means  from  the  actual  lifting  of 
other  heavy  objects,  I  may  be  able  to  think  of  the  iron  as 
heavy  with  a  considerable  degree  of  accuracy.  Neverthe- 
less, my  knowledge  that  iron  is  heavy  is  not  quite  the 
same  and  not  quite  so  satisfactory  as  tho  I  had  actually 
had  the  experience  of  lifting  iron.  Nevertheless,  much 
of  the  experience  that  enters  into  our  mental  life  is  of 
this  vicarious  kind.  For  example,  I  am  quite  satisfied 
that  common  white  arsenic  is  sweet.  I  have  never  tasted 
white  arsenic,  but  I  have  tasted  things  that  are 
sweet,  and  I  know  what  is  meant  by  sweet;  conse- 
quently when  I  am  told  that  arsenic  is  sweet  I  have 
the  ability  to  think  of  arsenic  in  much  the  same  way  as  I 
would  if  I  had  actually  tasted  it.  Nevertheless,  it  will 
be  recognized  that  it  is  not  exactly  the  same  and  should  I 
taste  it  I  would  probably  find  that  I  knew  arsenic  in  quite 
a  different  way  from  what  I  had  known  it  before. 

Some  writers  have  distinguished  these  two  experi- 
ences as  knowledge  of  the  "first  order"  and  knowledge 
of  the  "second  order."  If  I  have  actually  seen  Bar- 
nard's statue  of  Lincoln  I  have  knowledge  of  that  statue 
of  the  first  order,  but  if  I  am  told  that  there  is  a  statue  of 
Lincoln  by  Barnard,  that  it  represents  him  standing,  and 
the  peculiarities  of  that  statue  are  described  more  or  less 
in  detail,  I  have  a  knowledge  of  the  statue  of  Lincoln,  but 
it  is  knowledge  of  the  second  order. 

In  our  illustrations  of  the  memory  of  the  feeble-minded, 
the  reader  will  see  that  much  of  it  involves  simple  asso- 
ciation. The  name  of  a  person,  of  course,  is  an  associa- 

[86] 


ASSOCIATION  IN  DEFECTIVES 

tion  between  the  visual  perception  of  the  face  and  the 
auditory  image  of  the  name.  The  lower  grade  defectives 
make  only  a  few  associations  of  the  simplest  character 
and  practically  always  by  contiguity  and  as  the  result  of 
a  greater  or  less  number  of  identical  experiences.  Even 
the  highest  grade  defectives  associate  largely  by  contigu- 
ity, the  difference  between  them  and  the  lower  cases  being 
that  they  make  more  associations  and  form  them  more 
quickly ;  that  is,  as  a  result  of  fewer  experiences,  in  many 
instances  apparently  forming  them  as  quickly  and  easily 
as  normal  people. 

Florence  was  being  given  one  of  the  Norsworthy  Tests 
(Genus — Species  Test)  where,  given  the  name  of  the 
genus,  the  child  is  required  to  name  a  species ;  e.g.,  plant 
—rose.  When  the  test  was  about  half  done  the  examiner 
remembered  that  Florence  had  had  the  test  the  previous 
year,  whereupon  he  asked  her  if  she  remembered  having 
the  test  the  year  before.  "Yes,"  she  replied,  "but  I'm 
not  giving  you  the  same  answers  that  I  did  a  year  ago." 
"What  was  your  answer  to  this  question  at  that  time?" 
Her  reply  was  recorded,  and  wrhen  the  records  of  the 
previous  examination  were  looked  up,  was  found  to  be 
correct.  She  not  only  remembered  having  had  this  list, 
but  remembered  her  exact  answers.  It  is  evident  from 
such  experiences  that  the  simple  association  fibres  con- 
necting the  different  centres  are  sufficiently  developed, 
especially  in  the  feeble-minded  of  higher  grade,  to  enable 
them  to  make  a  great  many  associations  by  contiguity. 

We  have  now  seen  how  some  of  what  are  called  the 
simpler  mental  processes  are  the  direct  outcome  of  the 
nature  and  structure  of  the  nervous  system.  There  is 
still  another  manifestation  of  mind  which,  tho  somewhat 
more  complicated,  seems  also  to  be  inherent  in  the  nature 

[87] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OP  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  the  nervous  mechanism  and  therefore  belongs  in  this 
group.  This  is  emotion.  But  its  concideration  will  be 
postponed  until  we  have  discussed  the  elaboration  brot 
about  in  the  foregoing  processes  by  the  development  of 
the  great  association  centres. 

Summary. 

1.  Because    nervous    substance    is    the    most    highly 
organized  matter  known,  it  is  most  highly  irritable,  a 
stimulus  produces  not  only  temporary  but  permanent 
change.    This  is  the  basis  of  memory,  natural  retentive- 
ness. 

2.  The  mark  of  memory  is  a  feeling  of  familiarity, 
due   apparently  to   the   greater   ease   with   which   the 
neurokyme  flows  thru  a  pattern  already  in  use. 

3.  If  the  pattern  is  unused  for  a  time  this  feeling  of 
familiarity  may  be  lost.     One  may  then  reproduce  the 
image  without  being  conscious  that  it  has  been  experi- 
enced before.    This  is  reproductive  imagination. 

4.  Both  inherent  memory  and  reproductive  imagina- 
tion are  possible  in  the  feeble-minded  because  they  in- 
volve relatively  simple  neuron  patterns. 

5.  Because  nerve   substance   is  what   it  is  we  have 
memory  and  imagination ;  because  it  is  arranged  as  it  is 
(neurons,  synapses,  etc.)  we  have  attention  and  associa- 
tion. 

6.  Attention  is  the  most  vivid  consciousness.    This 
vividness  depends  upon  strength  of  stimulus,  nature  of 
neuron  pattern  (inherited  or  acquired),  elaborateness  of 
neuron  pattern  (simple  or  complicated),  and  upon  fre- 
quency, recency  and  emotional  content. 

7.  Two  or  more  centres  of  the  brain,  being  stimulated 
simultaneously  or  nearly  so,  become  connected  by  as- 

[88] 


SUMMARY 

sociation  neurons,  and  therefore  the  stimuli  arousing 
these  centres  are  associated  in  mind.  Thereafter  the 
activity  of  either  one  will  set  into  activity  the  other  thru 
association  by  contiguity. 

8.  This  association  process  thru,  the  functioning  of 
great  areas  of  association  neurons  becomes  the  condition 
for  a  great  extension  of  all  the  mental  processes. 

9.  Both   inherent   attention   and   association   by   con- 
tiguity are  within  the  capacity  of  the  feeble-minded. 


[89] 


CHAPTER  V 
HIGHER  MENTAL  PROCESSES 

WE  have  now  completed  our  survey  of  the  simpler  mental 
processes.  While  some  of  these  may  involve  rather  com- 
plex neuron  patterns,  they  are  nevertheless  connected 
with  and  depend  upon  the  more  primitive  parts  of  the 
brain.  These  parts  are  very  early  developed  and  many 
of  the  neuron  patterns  are  inherited,  ready  made,  while 
the  rest  are  quickly  formed  by  the  simple  experiences 
of  every  day  life. 

This  agrees  thoroly  with  the  obvious  fact  that  very 
young  children  and  animals,  even  fairly  well  down  the 
scale,  have  all  these  mental  processes.  That  is  to  say, 
they  remember,  they  attend,  and  they  associate.  That 
these  are  phylogenetically  the  older,  more  primitive  por- 
tions of  the  nervous  system  is  also  attested  by  the  fact 
that  many  animals  have  the  processes  of  memory,  atten- 
tion, etc.,  who  have  what  are  relatively  very  elemental 
nervous  systems — very  small  and  simple  cortical  areas 
and  only  a  fraction  of  the  convolutions  that  are  found 
in  human  beings. 

All  this  marks  what  may  be  considered  from  one  point 
of  view  a  rather  sharp  break  between  these  more  ele- 
mental manifestations  of  mind  and  the  more  elaborate  de- 
velopment of  the  higher  processes  of  thot,  reasoning,  judg- 
ment and  will.  While  from  a  broad  consideration  it  is 
perfectly  true  that  there  is  no  radical  break  but  rather 
a  gradual  development  into  those  higher  processes,  yet 

[90] 


HIGHER  PROCESSES 

we  shall  see  later  that  a  marked  absence  of  them  char- 
acterizes various  stages  of  immature  mind. 

We  must  now  proceed  to  trace  as  fully  as  our  knowl- 
edge will  permit  the  development  of  these  higher  proc- 
esses. The  logical  place  to  look  for  this  development 
is  in  the  extension  of  the  association  system.  For  the 
processes  already  described  we  have  needed  only  the 
comparatively  simple  neuron  patterns  located  in  any  one 
centre  or  in  two  or  more  of  the  localized  centres  with 
simple  association  fibres  connecting  them.  We  repeat 
the  observation  made  earlier  that  the  completion  of  the 
process  started  by  any  stimulus  involves  muscular  ac- 
tivity; and  as  long  as  the  force  of  the  neurokyme  is  rela- 
tively unimpeded  from  the  stimulation  of  the  first  sen- 
sory neuron  thru  the  various  synapses  over  to  the  motor 
neuron  with  the  resulting  muscular  activity,  no  other 
pathway  is  needed  and  none  other  will  be  followed.  It 
is  generally  held  that  we  should  look  for  the  condition 
which  leads  to  the  extension  of  this  system  in  some  kind 
of  blocking  of  this  simple  path  of  the  nerve  energy. 
This  may  readily  be  conceived  as  coming  about  from 
the  interference  of  two  or  more  stimuli.  In  the  com- 
plexities of  the  environment  of  the  higher  animals  and 
especially  of  man,  a  familiar  stimulus  may  have  for  its 
natural  result  an  action  which  is  antagonistic  to  some 
other  instinctive  tendency,  for  example,  instinctive 
curiosity  leads  a  child  to  explore  a  new  object,  but  the 
object,  possibly  a  dog,  emits  a  sound  which  arouses  the 
primitive  emotion  of  fear.  The  natural  outcome  would 
be  movement  away  from  the  object  rather  than  toward 
it.  One  has  often  seen  this  conflict  going  on  in  young 
children  as  well  as  in  animals.  Curiosity  leading  them 
to  approach,  fear  leading  them  away.  The  conflict  be- 

[91] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

tween  the  two  results  in  no  movement  whatever,  and  a 
common  description  of  the  situation  is  more  or  less  cor- 
rect; we  are  very  apt  to  say,  "He  doesn't  know  what 
to  do  and  is  trying  to  decide,  he  is  thinking  about  it." 

Going  back  to  our  picture  of  the  neuron  patterns  we 
may  say  that  the  course  of  the  neurokyme  is  blocked ;  not 
being  able  to  flow  into  its  usual  channels,  it  flows  in  a 
new  direction ;  and  we  may  for  the  moment  omit  a  number 
of  difficult  intermediate  steps  and  say  that  the  neurokyme 
has  flowed  into  the  great  association  centres,  and  we 
have  therefore  developed  more  elaborate  patterns  than 
ever  before;  some  of  the  higher  mental  processes  such 
as  thot,  reason  and  judgment  are  the  result. 

We  cannot,  however,  leave  the  matter  just  here,  but 
must  make  an  attempt  to  picture  to  ourselves  how  it 
may  be  possible  for  this  development  to  take  place.  We 
have  already  explained  (p.  84)  association  by  con- 
tiguity; that  is,  when  two  stimuli  A  and  B  are  presented 
at  the  same  time,  there  is  a  tendency  for  the  nerve  energy 
aroused  by  each  stimulus  to  pass  back  and  forth  over  the 
path  connecting  the  two  centres  A  and  B,  so  that  when 
on  a  later  occasion  stimulus  A  is  presented,  the  centre 
originally  aroused  by  the  stimulus  B  will  be  again 
aroused,  but  this  time  indirectly  from  centre  A.  It  must 
be  emphasized  that  the  contiguity  is  a  contiguity  of  the 
two  stimuli ;  that  is  of  the  situations  or  experiences  which 
give  rise  to  the  stimuli ;  so  that  in  reality  it  is  contiguity 
of  experiences  that  gives  rise  to  the  association. 

One  has  only  to  review  his  experiences  to  see  how  large 
a  part  in  life  this  kind  of  association  plays.  One  sees 
two  people  together;  if  upon  a  second  occasion  he  meets 
one  of  those  persons  he  is  very  apt  to  think  also  of  the 
other  one.  One  visits  a  new  place  in  winter  when  there 

[92] 


ASSOCIATION  BY  SIMILARITY 

is  snow  on  the  ground;  he  may  visit  the  same  place  the 
next  summer,  and  will  be  apt  to  think  of  the  snow  that 
was  on  the  ground  on  the  former  occasion.  One  may 
meet  with  an  accident  during  which  many  things  happen ; 
upon  a  later  occasion  the  reappearance  of  any  one  of  the 
objects  or  persons  is  apt  to  recall  more  or  less  completely 
the  other  persons  or  objects  or  circumstances  involved 
in  the  original  experience;  and  so  on  ad  libitum. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  another  kind  of  experience.  While 
walking  with  a  friend  you  meet  a  stranger.  After  pass- 
ing you  say  to  your  friend,  "Of  whom  does  that  person 
remind  you?"  the  friend  says,  "Of  no  one."  "Does  not 
his  walk  remind  you  of  X!"  "Why,  yes,  he  does  walk 
like  X."  In  your  mind  that  person  was  instantly  as- 
sociated with  X.  In  the  mind  of  your  friend  there  was 
no  such  association.  Why  the  difference?  In  the  first 
place,  why  did  you  associate  him  with  X?  Your  question 
gives  the  answer.  It  was  his  walk.  You  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  X,  you  have  seen  him  many  times,  and 
more  or  less  unconsciously  his  walk  has  made  an  impres- 
sion upon  you,  there  has  been  an  association  of  con- 
tiguity between  the  walk  and  X — simply  because  it  is 
X's  walk.  You  cannot  see  him  without  seeing  his  walk. 
Now  you  see  that  same  walk  in  some  one  else,  but  it  sug- 
gests X,  because  there  is  a  connection  in  your  neuron 
patterns.  That  walk  is  tied  up,  so  to  speak,  with  X. 
The  neurokyme  flows  into  the  nerve  pattern  that  has  been 
so  many  times  aroused  by  seeing  X  walk. 

But  your  first  question  was  not,  "Of  whom  does  that 
walk  make  you  think?"  that  is,  with  whom  is  that  walk 
associated,  but,  "Of  whom  does  that  person  make  you 
think?"  with  whom  is  that  person  associated  in  your 
mind;  and  your  friend  had  no  association  with  any  per- 

[93] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

son.  It  is  clear  that  in  your  own  case  the  one  thing 
that  you  noted  about  the  stranger  was  his  walk  and, 
as  already  stated,  that  walk  was  by  past  experience  as- 
sociated in  your  mind  with  X.  On  the  present  occasion 
it  is  associated  with  the  stranger.  We  therefore  find 
that  by  the  medium  of  the  walk  the  stranger  is  associated 
with  X.  This  is  called  association  by  similarity.  The 
stranger  is  similar  to  X.  The  similarity  is  not  marked, 
in  fact  it  is  very  slight;  it  pertains  only  to  his  manner 
of  walking,  a  minute  detail  which  had  never  entered  into 
consciousness  with  your  friend.  The  friend  did  not  see 
any  similarity  between  the  two  people  because  he  did  not 
become  especially  conscious  of  the  walk.  When  you  brot 
it  into  his  consciousness  by  your  question,  then  it  was 
evident  that  there  was  an  association  by  contiguity  in 
his  mind  between  X  and  X's  walk  and  that  he  also  had 
noticed  the  stranger's  walk  and  he  was  able  to  say,  "Yes, 
he  does  walk  like  him. ' ' 

This  is  the  essence  of  all  association  by  similarity. 
Two  things  are  similar  when  they  have  some  point  of 
identity.  When  we  associate  by  similarity  we  are  always 
able  to  pick  out  the  identical  points;  and  if  we  do  not 
associate  two  things  that  are  similar  it  is  because  the 
point  in  which  they  are  identical  does  not  come  into  our 
consciousness.  Your  friend  was  perhaps  looking  at  the 
eyes,  or  at  the  clothing,  or  at  some  other  feature  rather 
than  the  walk,  hence  there  was  nothing  to  arouse  the 
association  by  similarity  which,  as  has  often  been  pointed 
out,  is  in  reality  only  a  special  form  of  association  by 
contiguity.  But  it  is  convenient  to  separate  the  two  and 
consequently  we  shall  follow  the  usual  custom.  It  is  a 
common  experience  to  say, ' '  That  person  makes  me  think 
of  so  and  so";  "Your  house  reminds  me  of  the  one  I 

[94] 


SIMILARITY 

lived  in  years  ago";  "That  tree  makes  me  think  of  the 
elms  that  grew  on  the  home  place. ' '  When  we  remember 
that  life  is  experience,  and  ask  ourselves  why  the  one 
thing  reminds  us  of  the  other — becomes  associated  with 
it — we  are  apt  to  say  they  are  similar,  hence  the  expres- 
sion association  by  similarity.  But  just  what  is  similar- 
ity and  how  can  we  picture  what  happens  in  terms  of 
neuron  patterns? 

Always,  when  one  thing  suggests  another  or  when  we 
say  two  things  are  similar,  it  will  be  found  that  there 
is  some  point  in  which  they  are  exactly  alike.  The  fact 
that  the  one  reminds  us  of  the  other,  or  that  we  notice 
the  similarity,  proves  that  the  particular  feature  is  the 
one  that  has  aroused  our  attention,  or  in  other  words, 
set  into  activity  a  particular  brain  pattern.  That  par- 
ticular brain  pattern  is  now  associated  (by  contiguity) 
with  other  brain  patterns  which  together  make  up  our 
consciousness  of  the  whole  object.  All  the  different 
features  of  the  object  are  present  to  us  at  the  moment; 
but  the  particular  brain  pattern  involved  in  the  similar- 
ity has  in  time  past  been  a  part  of  another  picture  also 
associated  by  contiguity. 

Our  association  by  similarity  then  is  simply  the  con- 
nection of  a  present  elaborate  neuron  pattern  with  a  past 
elaborate  neuron  pattern  by  means  of  one  part  of  each 
pattern  that  is  common  to  both.  There  is  thus  nothing 
new  involved.  It  is  simply  the  matter  of  contiguity 
which,  as  we  have  stated,  is  the  basis  of  all  association. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  convenient  to  separate  this  group  from 
the  other  because  of  the  somewhat  round-about  way  in 
which  the  association  occurs.  It  will  be  seen  at  once  how 
this  concept  enlarges  our  appreciation  of  the  role  that 
association  plays  in  the  building  up  of  mental  life. 

[95] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

We  shall  see  later  that  logical  memory  is  entirely  a 
matter  of  association,  and  we  shall  see  still  further  why 
memory  becomes  as  elaborate  as  it  does,  and  how  it  comes 
about  that  we  are  able  to  recall  so  many  different  things 
that  would  seem  at  first  utterly  impossible  to  remember. 
For  example,  upon  thinking  of  Harvard  I  think  of  Yale, 
not  because  they  are  contiguous  or  have  ever  been  to- 
gether in  my  experience,  but  they  are  both  universities 
and  Yale  University  by  way  of  the  concept  university 
at  once  suggests  Harvard  University. 

It  should  be  noted  that  here,  as  in  many  other  cases, 
there  may  be  a  direct  association  by  contiguity  by  way 
of  words,  what  we  may  call  a  verbal  contiguity.  While 
I  have  never  seen  Harvard  University  and  Yale  Univer- 
sity at  the  same  instant,  I  have  seen  or  heard  the  two 
words,  Harvard  and  Yale,  at  the  same  time.  So  that  it 
is  not  always  possible  to  say  definitely  whether  the  as- 
sociation is  of  the  pure  contiguity  type  or  of  the  similar- 
ity type,  unless  one  knows  at  the  same  time  what  we 
might  call  the  natural  history  of  the  experience.  Again 
it  may  be  pointed  out  that  even  verbal  associations  may 
be  by  similarity  as  well  as  by  contiguity.  This  is  the 
basis  of  all  punning,  where  we  have  an  association  by 
similarity  of  sound. 

It  is  thus  seen  again  that  in  the  last  analysis  the 
capacity  of  making  associations  depends  upon  two 
factors.  First,  experience ;  and  second,  a  neuron  system 
that  is  able  to  respond  to  the  different  stimili.  Either 
factor  being  absent,  no  association  is  possible.  Either 
factor  being  weak,  the  association  is  weak  and  incomplete, 
unsatisfactory  and  inefficient. 

Now,  undeveloped  mind,  either  of  the  child  or  of  the 
mental  defective,  in  proportion  to  the  incompleteness  of 

[96] 


ASSOCIATION  IN  CHILDREN 

its  development,  is  incapable  of  elaborate  associations. 
The  child  under  about  seven  years  of  age  may  be  in- 
capable of  elaborate  associations  because  of  lack  of  brain 
development;  but  if,  as  is  generally  supposed,  the  brain 
has  attained  nearly  its  complete  development  by  the  age 
of  seven,  thereafter  any  inability  to  make  elaborate  as- 
sociations will  be  due  to  lack  of  adequate  experience. 
It  is  probable,  however,  that  the  brain  normally  develops 
much  beyond  the  seven  year  period,  because  the  phenom- 
enon of  mental  defectiveness  shows  us  that  people  who 
are  adult  in  years  and  have  had  all  the  necessary  experi- 
ences are  nevertheless  not  able  to  make  the  elaborate  as- 
sociations that  underlie  thot,  reasoning  and  judgment. 
Their  experience  is  adequate  but  there  is  somewhere  an 
incapacity  in  the  brain  system,  consequently  the  desired 
results  do  not  follow. 

From  this  it  is  possible  to  make  two  very  fundamental 
and  important  deductions.  The  one  is,  that  the  capacity 
of  the  individual  for  higher  associations  and  elaborate 
thot  is  absolutely  limited  by  the  state  of  his  mental 
development,  and  that  all  attempts  to  develop  those 
higher  processes  are  and  must  ever  be  futile.  Con- 
versely, when  experience  has  shown  us  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  teach  a  child  those  things  which  children  of  his 
age  ought  to  learn,  we  may  be  satisfied  that  there  are 
in  that  brain  defective  neurons;  and  it  is  as  impossible 
to  develop  those  defective  neurons  as  to  make  a  success- 
ful athlete  out  of  a  cripple.  These  considerations  give 
the  answer  to  the  question,  "Why  is  he  so  stupid,  why 
can  he  not  learn!" 

We  have  described  in  an  earlier  chapter  what  is  now 
accepted  in  brain  localization,  that  is,  the  parts  of  the 
brain  that  are  known  to  be  essential  to  certain  functions. 

[97] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  remaining  areas  of  the  brain,  the  great  frontal 
region,  the  region  between  the  kinesthetic  and  the  optical 
centres,  and  the  large  area  between  the  optical  and  the 
auditory  centres  have  been  designated  by  Flechsig  as 
association  areas.  It  is  thot  that  in  these  areas  are  found 
the  neurons  that  are  involved  in  the  higher  and  more 
elaborate  associations. 

Herrick  (23,  p.  290)  says:  "It  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  most  significant  parts  of  the  human  cere- 
bral cortex  are  the  association  centres.  These  alone  are 
greatly  enlarged  in  the  human  brain  as  compared  with 
those  of  the  higher  apes.  In  the  latter  animals  the  pro- 
jection centres  are  fully  as  large  as  those  of  man,  the 
much  smaller  brain  weight  being  chiefly  due  to  the  rela- 
tively poor  development  of  the  association  centres. " 

And  on  page  294:  "It  is  a  fact  of  common  observa- 
tion that  those  animals  which  possess  the  capacity  for 
intelligent  adjustments  of  this  sort  have  larger  associa- 
tion centres  in  the  cerebral  cortex  than  do  other  species 
whose  behaviour  is  controlled  by  more  simple  reflex  and 
instinctive  factors,  that  is,  by  inherited  as  contrasted  with 
individually  acquired  organization.  This  is  brot  out 
with  especial  distinctness  by  a  comparison  of  the  brains 
of  the  higher  apes  with  that  of  man,  and  of  the  lower 
races  of  men  as  contrasted  with  the  higher." 

It  seems  logical  to  conclude  that,  in  the  case  of  mental 
levels  below  the  normal,  these  centres  must  be  considered 
lacking  in  development.  We  may  picture  more  or  less 
of  the  cells  in  these  regions  as  like  the  smaller  ones 
in  Fig.  13,  whereas  they  should  be  like  the  larger  ones. 
The  exact  mechanism,  the  way  in  which  these  centres 
operate  in  the  elaborate  associations  of  the  intelligent 
man,  is  of  course  far  beyond  our  knowledge  at  the 

[98] 


VALUE  OF  ASSOCIATION  BY  SIMILARITY 

present  time.  We  do  not  even  have  the  evidence  that 
these  centres  are  undeveloped  in  the  defective,  but  it  is 
believed  by  our  best  neurologists  that  when  our  technique 
is  able  to  grapple  with  this  problem  it  will  clearly  show 
a  defect  in  these  regions. 

Again  one  has  only  to  recall  his  experiences  to  realize 
that  this  association  by  similarity  plays  a  very  large  part 
in  one's  life  and  it  plays  not  only  a  large  part  but  a  vitally 
important  one.  In  fact  it  is  the  fundamental  step  in 
the  larger  development  of  mind.  If  we  were  limited  to 
4 'association  by  contiguity"  a  large  proportion  of  our 
experiences  would  be  meaningless  to  us  and  consequently 
useless.  We  should  never  know  how  to  act  in  a  new 
situation.  One  thing  would  never  suggest  another  to 
us  unless  the  two  actually  had  been  presented  to  us 
previously  in  contiguity.  The  law  of  gravitation  would 
never  have  been  discovered  because  it  required  the  per- 
ception of  the  similarity  of  the  apple  falling  to  the  earth 
and  the  earth  falling  to  the  sun.  Inventions  would  be 
impossible  because  the  inventor  must  see  the  similarity 
between  something  that  is  already  experienced  by  him 
and  the  new  thing  that  he  wishes  to  accomplish.  The 
burnt  child  would  not  dread  the  fire  unless  it  was  pre- 
cisely the  same  kind  of  fire  as  burned  him  the  first  time. 
He  would  not  see  the  similarity  between  the  red  hot  blaze 
and  the  red  hot  piece  of  iron. 

There  are  all  degrees  of  similarity.  In  our  first  ex- 
ample of  the  stranger's  walk  we  said  that  the  similar- 
ity between  the  stranger  and  X  was  not  marked.  It 
was  very  slight.  It  is  clear  that  the  more  marked  the 
similarity  the  more  easily  association  is  made;  so  that 
when  we  say  that  without  the  association  by  similarity 
we  would  be  deprived  of  all  these  possibilities,  we  are 

[99] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

speaking  in  general  terms  and  with  only  a  partial  view, 
merely  for  the  sake  of  illustration  and  simplicity. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  unthinkable  that  we  should 
not  reason  by  similarity  to  a  certain  extent  if  we  as- 
sociate by  contiguity;  because  many  times  nothing  about 
the  new  object  arouses  our  consciousness  except  the 
phase  that  we  have  experienced  in  some  other  connection. 
In  other  words,  association  by  similarity  passes  imper- 
ceptibly into  association  by  contiguity.  Two  houses  are 
so  nearly  alike  as  to  be  practically  identical  as  houses. 
The  one  suggests  the  other  strictly  by  similarity  because 
they  are  not  the  same  house;  and  yet  because  they  look 
so  much  alike  it  is  practically  a  matter  of  contiguity. 
Even  undeveloped  mind  may  associate  by  similarity  in 
such  instances.  We  shall  understand  later  that  it  is  in 
a  sense  a  measure  of  intelligence  to  perceive  similarities 
of  the  more  difficult  types. 

All  this  is  clearly  understood  again  by  reference  to 
our  neuron  patterns.  That  is  to  say,  it  depends  upon 
how  elaborate  has  been  the  neuron  pattern  aroused  by 
the  earlier  experience  or  experiences  of  contiguity.  My 
neuron  pattern  of  X  had  been  elaborated  to  include  his 
walk.  My  friend's  neuron  pattern  of  X  had  not  so 
definitely  included  that  feature ;  hence  the  difference  be- 
tween us.  With  me  the  stimulus  of  the  walk  aroused  the 
entire  X  pattern;  with  my  friend,  the  stimulus  of  the 
walk  aroused  no  such  pattern,  either  because  it  never  had 
aroused  the  pattern  or  because  the  walk  part  had  been 
so  light,  so  vague,  so  indefinite,  that  it  did  not  arouse 
enough  energy  to  set  going  the  whole  pattern.  Or  it 
might  be  that  my  friend's  neurons  are  not  sufficiently 
developed  so  that  he  could  have  as  elaborate  a  pattern 
as  I  have. 

[100] 


LIKENESSES  VERSUS  DIFFERENCES 

This  brings  us  again  to  our  fundamental  principle  of 
brain  and  neuron  development.  The  person  whose 
neurons  have  not  developed  properly  cannot  possibly 
have  those  more  elaborate  patterns.  Consequently  we 
are  safe  in  concluding  that  they  never  can  associate  by 
similarity  to  the  fine  extent  that  other  persons  can  whose 
neurons  are  better  developed.  There  seem  to  be  people 
in  whom  it  is  impossible  to  develop  any  artistic  sense. 
We  may  readily  conclude  that  their  neurons  are  not  suf- 
ficiently elaborate  for  them  to  have  these  more  extensive 
patterns  which  enable  them  to  perceive  those  similari- 
ties which  go  to  make  up  artistic  appreciation.  Further- 
more it  seems  clear  from  what  we  know  of  brain  de- 
velopment and  the  age  at  which  these  finer  associations 
are  possible,  that  these  elaborate  neuron  patterns  re- 
quire an  extension  into  the  association  areas  of  which  we 
have  spoken. 

When  we  study  the  actual  performance  of  various 
stages  of  undeveloped  mind,  we  find  evidences  of  very 
definite  development  of  the  association  process.  Speak- 
ing in  broad,  general  terms  we  can  state  that  the  feeble- 
minded associate  by  contiguity  but  not  by  similarity. 
Children  do  not  easily  see  similarities.  Differences  are 
perceived  before  similarities.  Ask  a  child  of  seven  in 
what  way  coal  is  like  a  stone  and  he  will  tell  you  we 
can  burn  coal  and  we  can't  burn  a  stone.  It  is  the  differ- 
ence that  he  notices.  Not  until  eight  years  will  he  give 
the  correct  answer.  And  not  until  eleven  will  he  see  like- 
nesses as  often  as  differences  (see  p.  294).  This  agrees 
well  with  what  we  have  already  pointed  out  that  as- 
sociation by  similarity  involves  more  elaborate  neuron 
patterns  than  association  by  contiguity. 

This  helps  to  establish  the  view  already  hinted  at  that 

[101] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  neurons  lacking  complete  development  in  the  feeble- 
minded are  those  that  are  located  in  the  great  associa- 
tion centres;  and  further  that  since  the  upper  limit  of 
feeble-mindedness  is  somewhere  around  twelve  years,  or 
at  the  beginning  of  puberty,  it  would  follow  that  the 
great  association  areas  get  their  complete  development 
after  that  period.  Of  the  whole  brain,  these  neurons  are 
the  latest  to  develop  and  consequently  most  likely  to  be 
affected  by  anything  that  causes  arrest  of  growth. 

When  one  realizes  to  what  extent  the  ability  to  adapt 
one's  self  to  environment,  to  meet  the  various  situations 
that  arise  in  the  course  of  the  day,  is  dependent  upon 
association  by  similarity,  one  easily  understands  why 
the  feeble-minded  are  incapable  of  managing  their  own 
affairs  with  ordinary  prudence ;  and  one  understands  the 
otherwise  puzzling  experiences  and  peculiar  limitations 
of  the  feeble-minded.  A  common  way  of  distinguishing 
the  feeble-minded  from  the  normal  is  to  say  that  they 
cannot  adapt  themselves  to  changed  conditions.  The 
higher  grades  of  feeble-minded  can  be  trained  to  do 
quite  elaborate  tasks  and  seemingly  ought  to  be  capable 
and  efficient  workers,  but  it  is  just  this  limitation  that 
makes  them  fall  short  of  efficiency.  There  are  relatively 
few  situations  in  life  that  do  not  require  some  variation 
from  previous  experience. 

In  other  words,  the  normal  individual  solves  the  new 
problem  because  of  its  similarity  to  a  previous  problem. 
The  feeble-minded  can  solve  a  problem  if  he  has  been 
trained  to  solve  exactly  the  same  kind  of  problem  on  a 
previous  occasion.  Let  us  illustrate :  We  have  devised  a 
test  for  this,  a  piece  of  apparatus  which  we  call  the  Adap- 
tation Board  (20).  It  consists  of  a  piece  of  half  inch 
wood  22  x  28  cm.  Thru  this  are  bored  four  holes.  Three 

[102] 


ADAPTATION  BOARD 

of  the  holes  have  a  diameter  of  63  mm.;  the  fourth  has 
a  diameter  of  65  mm.  The  whole  is  finished  (painted,  or 
stained),  so  there  is  no  obvious  difference  between  the 
two  sides.  A  circular  block  is  prepared,  preferably 
about  an  inch  thick,  and  64  mm,  in  diameter,  so  that  it  will 
fit  easily  into  the  larger  hole,  but  will  not  go  into  any  of 
the  other  three. 

The  method  of  procedure  for  the  use  of  the  test  is  as 
follows :  The  child  to  be  tested  stands  at  the  left  side  of 
the  examiner ;  the  board  is  in  front  of  them  on  a  table,  in 
such  a  position  that  the  hole  into  which  the  block  will 
fit  is  in  the  upper  left-hand  corner.  Directions  are  given 
as  follows: 

Examiner :  You  see  this  block,  and  you  see  these  holes 
The  block  will  fit  into  only  one  hole.  Find  which  one. 

By  trial  the  child  discovers  the  correct  hole  in  the  up- 
per left-hand  corner  and  places  the  block  in.  The  block 
is  removed  by  the  examiner,  who  says,  "Do  it  again. 
Once  more  place  the  block  into  the  only  hole  it  will  fit." 
This  may  be  repeated  until  the  child  places  the  block, 
without  hesitaton  and  without  trying  in  any  other  place, 
in  the  correct  hole. 

Examiner:  Now  you  take  the  block.  Now  watch  me 
carefully. 

The  examiner  turns  the  board  over  from  left  to  right, 
slowly,  taking  about  2  or  3  seconds  for  the  turn;  then 
turns  to  the  child,  ' '  Now  put  the  block  into  the  only  hole 
that  it  will  fit. "  Those  of  sufficient  intelligence  will  place 
the  block  at  once  into  the  upper  right-hand  hole.  An- 
other group,  however,  attempt  to  place  the  block  still  in 
the  upper  left-hand  hole,  not  having  been  able  to  adapt 
themselves  in  the  slighest  degree  to  the  changed  condi- 
tion. Failing  to  get  the  block  into  this  hole,  the  child 

[103] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

tries  until  he  discovers  that  it  goes  into  the  upper  right- 
hand  hole. 

The  examiner  now  places  the  board  back  in  its  original 
position,  with  the  large  hole  in  the  upper  left-hand  corner. 
Proceeding  as  before,  he  shows  the  child  that  the  block 
goes  in  the  upper  left-hand  hole.  This  being  learned,  he 
again  says,  "Now  watch  me  carefully,"  and  turns  the 
board  at  the  same  rate  as  before,  but  instead  of  turning 
the  board  from  left  to  right,  he  turns  it  from  back  to 
front,  that  is  the  side  farthest  away  from  him  to  the 
position  nearest,  and  says,  "Now  place  the  block  in 
the  only  hole  into  which  it  will  fit. ' '  We  now  have  three 
groups:  first,  those  who  succeed  promptly;  second,  those 
who  fail  entirely,  still  trying  to  block  in  the  upper  left- 
hand  hole ;  and  third,  an  intermediate  group,  who  try  the 
block  in  the  upper  right-hand  hole.  Apparently,  these 
last  are  children  who  are  not  able  to  adapt  themselves 
perfectly  to  the  charged  condition ;  but  who  do  remember 
that,  after  the  board  was  turned  the  first  time,  the  block 
went  into  the  upper  right-hand  corner.  Not  having  been 
able  to  distinguish  the  difference  in  the  directions  in 
which  the  board  was  turned,  they  again  try  the  block  in 
that  position.  The  accompanying  chart  Fig.  40  shows 
how  the  ability  to  adapt  to  the  changed  position  of  the 
board  increases  with  the  mental  age  of  the  child.  It  is 
seen  that  almost  90%  of  defectives  with  a  mentality  of 
eight  or  above,  having  learned  which  hole  the  block  will 
fit  into,  are  able  to  fit  that  block  into  the  hole  when  they 
have  seen  the  board  turned  over,  but  under  eight  the 
percentage  able  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  changed  posi- 
tion of  the  board  grows  steadily  less. 

Success  with  the  adaptation  board  obviously  requires 
a  very  simple  adaptation.  Consider  a  somewhat  more 

[104] 


ADAPTATIOH  BOARD 
-OHJCil  AHD  DEFECTIVE  CHILDREN 
PIP.CEHTAGE  0?  SUCCESSES  OE  SECOKD  IUHH. 


Ages  4 


60  AT  ACE 

Ei:?AI  AGE  * 


CHROHOIOGICAL 


NUMBER  Or  CASE? 

AGES 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

Defectives 

ZZ 

26 

22 

37 

58 

31 

20 

3 

llormal  Chronological 

0 

16 

29 

24 

29 

49 

46 

38 

22 

normal  Mental  Age 

7 

8 

13 

46 

43 

60 

64 

27 

14 

Normal  at  Age 

0 

5 

16 

18 

19 

31 

30 

14 

6 

14 


TOTAL 

219 

6  272 
Z72 
137 


Fig.  40.  Curves  showing  development  of  ability  as  measured  by  the  Adap- 
tation Board 


ADAPTATION  BOARD 

difficult  adaptation.  A  girl  with  a  mentality  of  11  had 
been  trained  to  make  beds;  she  could  by  herself  make 
a  bed  almost  perfectly.  One  day  a  normal  adult  offered 
to  assist  her  in  making  the  bed.  The  girl  was  totally  un- 
able to  do  her  part.  She  could  make  the  bed  alone  but 
was  unable  to  adapt  herself  to  the  changed  condition  of 
having  some  one  else  assist  in  smoothing  out  the  bed 
clothes.  It  was  a  new  problem  to  her  and  she  was  un- 
able to  see  the  similarity  and  adapt  herself  to  it.  A  per- 
son of  this  mental  development,  trained  carefully  and 
patiently  to  do  the  work  in  a  certain  kitchen,  is  utterly 
confused  and  helpless  if  placed  in  a  kitchen  where  the 
arrangement  of  apparatus  is  different  from  the  one  to 
which  she  is  accustomed.  The  kitchens  are  closely  simi- 
lar but  not  the  same,  and  she  is  incapable  of  perceiving 
the  similarity  and  adapting  herself  to  the  changed  condi- 
tions. 

Classification  is  a  process  that  involves  perceiving  the 
similarities  between  things,  and  arranging  them  accord- 
ing to  some  principle  of  similarity.  The  feeble-minded 
are  incapable  of  making  any  useful  classifications  except 
those  of  the  most  extreme  simplicity.  If  children  under 
twelve  years  of  age  are  asked  to  name  sixty  objects  it  is 
found  that  only  the  older  ones  are  able  to  associate  one 
name  with  another  by  similarity  or  according  to  any 
classification  or  common  grouping.  If  a  child  under  nine 
names  "pen"  he  will  not  think  of  "pencil"  or  "paper" 
or  "ink"  or  any  of  the  objects  that  an  adult  would  natur- 
ally associate  with  the  pen.  If  the  child  is  of  rather  low 
grade  we  find  him  absolutely  limited  to  the  things  that  he 
can  see.  He  looks  around  the  room  and  names  the  ob- 
jects in  sight  and  then  stops.  The  objects  that  he  sees 
do  not  even  suggest  to  him  similar  objects  that  he  has 

[105] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

seen  elsewhere  or  on  other  occasions.  The  neuron  pat- 
terns that  are  involved  in  making  these  associations  by 
similarity  have  never  developed  in  his  brain  and  conse- 
quently he  is  incapable  of  thinking  things  out  that  way. 
We  need  not  dwell  further  on  this  at  the  present  time, 
for  we  shall  see  the  same  thing  in  a  closely  allied  mani- 
festation of  mind,  namely  attention. 

Attention. — We  have  described  what  we  call  instinctive 
attention  as  the  consciousness  that  is  aroused  by  any 
stimulus  that  sets  into  activity  an  inherited  nerve  pat- 
tern. But  just  as  we  have  seen  that  there  is  an  exten- 
sion of  the  simple  association,  so  there  is  an  extension  of 
the  attention.  We  find  ourselves  attending  to  many  situ- 
ations that  certainly  make  no  instinctive  appeal.  That 
is  to  say,  they  cannot  by  any  possibility  be  considered  as 
belonging  to  any  inherited  neuron  pattern.  For  example, 
in  a  drawing  room  where  many  people  are  talking  in 
groups  I  am  talking  with  a  friend.  Suddenly  I  catch 
the  word  "psychology"  uttered  by  somebody  in  a  group 
near-by.  Instantly  my  attention  is  held  or  attracted,  so 
much  so  that  I  entirely  miss  the  remark  that  my  friend  is 
making  and  have  to  call  myself  back  and  beg  his  pardon 
and  ask  him  to  repeat.  What  happened  is  this:  In  the 
midst  of  my  consciousness  of  my  friend's  conversation, 
the  stimulus  of  the  word  psychology  suddenly  aroused  a 
neuron  pattern  which  swamped  all  the  other  patterns  that 
were  active  in  my  brain. 

Why  did  that  word  psychology  change  my  thinking  or 
my  consciousness?  Certainly  not  because  I  was  born 
with  a  neuron  pattern  ready  made  to  respond  to  the  sound 
of  the  word  psychology.  That  is  an  acquired  pattern.  It 
is  true  that  if  we  could  trace  the  etiology  of  that  new  ex- 
perience we  would  find  it  ran  back  to  something  instinet- 

[106] 


ACQUIRED  ATTENTION 

ive,  but  we  need  not  here  attempt  to  trace  that  course  be 
cause  we  have  already  done  so  under  the  head  of  associ- 
ation. This  bit  of  acquired  attention  comes  thru  the 
extended  association.  As  the  result  of  experience  the 
word  psychology  has  come  to  be  associated  with  some- 
thing that  is  instinctively  significant  for  my  life.  It  may 
be  that  I  earn  my  living  by  teaching  psychology  and  so 
it  comes  about  that  the  fundamental  instinct  of  self-pres- 
ervation has  become  associated  with  this  newly  acquired 
technical  subject  of  psychology.  The  original  inherited 
neuron  pattern  has  become  elaborated  to  take  in  this  mat- 
ter of  psychology,  consequently  when  I  now  hear  the  word 
psychology  it  arouses  a  very  large  and  important  neuron 
pattern,  the  consciousness  connected  with  which  is  so 
strong  that  it  swamps  all  other  matters  for  the  time 
being. 

Again  we  note  that  this  capacity  for  attending  to  all 
these  things  that  do  not  directly  appeal  to  instinctive 
interest  is  a  mark  of  higher  development  of  mind  and  of 
neuron  patterns.  And  again  we  may  see  that  one  may  be 
lacking  in  this  capacity  either  from  never  having  had  the 
experiences  which  would  develop  these  patterns,  or  from 
not  having  neurons  sufficiently  developed  to  -accomplish 
it.  A  person  whose  association  centres  had  not  developed 
would  not  be  capable  of  making  these  acquisitions  or  of 
having  what  we  call  acquired  attention.  We  must  repeat 
the  caution  that  we  are  speaking  broadly.  The  transition 
is  gradual  from  instinctive  to  acquired  attention.  Even 
children  make  many  acquisitions  but  of  course  are  not 
capable  of  the  concentration  we  find  in  adults. 

One  of  the  complaints  most  often  made  of  mental  de- 
fectives is  that  they  cannot  concentrate  their  attention. 
Teachers  and  parents,  not  understanding  the  nature  of 

[107] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  human  mind,  often  say,  "If  we  can  only  make  this 
child  concentrate  his  attention  he  will  be  all  right," 
which  is  a  perfectly  true  statement  but  meaningless.  He 
cannot  concentrate  his  attention  because  he  has  not  the 
necessary  neuron  patterns.  What  is  meant  is,  that  the 
child  has  acquired  few  associations;  he  attends  to  those 
things  that  appeal  to  him  instinctively.  But  those  things 
that  depend  for  the  arousal  of  consciousness,  which 
means  attention,  upon  the  combinations  of  elaborate  neu- 
ron patterns  based  upon  experience,  he  cannot  do.  He 
may  have  had  the  individual  experiences  but  he  has  not 
woven  them  together  in  such  a  way  that  they  make  a 
complex  picture  because  he  does  not  have  the  association 
neurons. 

This  lack  of  acquired  attention  is  characteristic  of 
the  feeble-minded.  It  is  this  that  makes  their  conversa- 
tion and  their  actions  so  childish.  The  brain  being  ar- 
rested in  its  growth  before  the  neurons  in  the  association 
areas  have  developed,  the  feeble-minded  are  not  able  to 
build  up  those  elaborate  neuron  patterns  which  must  un- 
derlie the  elaborate  consciousness  that  means  attention  to 
larger  problems  or  interest  in  the  greater  affairs  of  life. 
The  feeble-minded  are  thus  characteristically  lacking  in 
all  these  higher  mental  processes.  Their  association  by 
similarity  is  very  limited,  consequently  associative  mem- 
ory is  weak,  acquired  attention  has  limited  range,  and 
constructive  imagination  is  largely  lacking.  Moreover, 
the  capacity  for  each  and  all  of  these  processes  varies  as 
the  mental  development.  Of  all  classes  of  defectives,, 
the  moron  has  the  most  development  of  these  processes, 
the  imbeciles  less,  and  the  idiots  least,  indeed  practically 
none. 

The  best  explanation  of  all  this,  in  view  of  what  is 

[108] 


SUMMARY 

known  of  the  nervous  system,  is  found  in  the  view  that 
these  higher  processes  depend  upon  the  development  of 
the  association  centres,  and  that  these  centres  probably 
develop  mainly  after  the  beginning  of  adolescence.  Con- 
sequently any  arrest  in  that  development  previous  to  that 
time  leaves  the  child  without  the  necessary  neurons  for 
making  these  higher  associations.  And  the  earlier  the 
arrest,  the  fewer  the  neurons.  We  see  exactly  the  same 
condition  of  things  in  still  another  manifestation  of  mind ; 
namely,  memory. 

Summary 

1.  The  development   of  the   great   association  areas 
marks  a  great  advance  in  mental  functions. 

2.  Animals,  young  children  and  mental  defectives  are 
differentiated  from  normal  adults  by  the  absence  or  weak 
development  of  these  areas  and  the  consequent  marked 
deficiency  in  the  higher  mental  processes. 

3.  Association  by  similarity  is  little  manifested  in  im- 
mature mind.    Ability  to  see  obscure  points  of  similarity 
is  a  mark  of  intelligence. 

4.  The  ability  to  adapt  one 's  self  to  new  situations  and 
new  problems  depends  upon  association  by  similarity. 

5.  Attention  is  greatly  extended  by  the  elaborate  asso- 
ciations resulting  from  the  perceptions  of  similarities. 
This  is  acquired  attention. 

6.  Persons  of  incompletely  developed  minds  cannot 
' ' concentrate  their  attention"  because  their  association 
fibres  are  not  developed. 

7.  The  feeble-minded  are  characteristically  deficient  in, 
acquired  attention  and  association  by  similarity. 


[109] 


CHAPTER  VI 
HIGHER  MENTAL  PROCESSES— Continued 

Memory. — We  have  described  inherent  memory,  or 
what  some  have  called  natural  retentiveness,  a  condition 
depending  upon  the  nature  of  nerve  matter  and  upon  di- 
rect experience.  But  we  remember  many  things  that 
are  not  matters  of  direct  experience.  We  might  stop  and 
consider  what  would  be  our  condition  if  we  were  limited 
to  the  kind  of  memory  already  described.  We  could  re- 
member only  the  things  that  came  to  us  thru  the  senses. 
The  neurokyme  would  flow  into  these  simple  neuron  pat- 
terns that  had  been  aroused  by  the  original  experience 
and  we  would  have  the  feeling  of  familiarity  and  remem- 
ber that  experience.  Thru  these  acquired  associations 
and  the  great  extension  of  the  nueron  patterns  into  the 
association  centres,  we  get  a  condition  which  permits  the 
nerve  energy  to  run  into  this  elaborate  pattern,  arousing 
the  corresponding  consciousness  and  arousing  it  with 
that  greater  ease  which  means  the  feeling  of  familiarity, 
the  mark  of  memory.  Memory  thus  becomes  enormously 
elaborated  and  we  speak  of  this  elaborate  form  as  associ- 
ative or  acquired  memory,  because  it  is  dependent  upon 
acquired  association,  association  by  similarity.  This  is 
also  called  logical  association. 

Her  rick  (23  p.  295)  says:  "In  our  own  mental  life  we 
recognize  the  persistence  of  traces  of  previous  experience 
subjectively  as  memory,  and  memory  lies  at  the  basis  of 
all  human  culture.  From  this  it  follows  that  psycho- 
logical memory  is  probably  a  function  of  the  association 

[110] 


ASSOCIATIVE  MEMORY 

centres;  but  it  must  not  be  assumed  that  specific  mem- 
ories reside  in  particular  cortical  areas,  much  less  that 
they  are  preserved  as  structural  traces  left  in  individual 
cortical  cells,  as  has  sometimes  been  done. 

"The  simplest  concrete  memory  that  can  appear  in 
consciousness  is  a  very  complex  process,  and  probably 
involves  the  activity  of  an  extensive  system  of  associa- 
tion centres  and  tracts.  That  which  persists  in  the  cere- 
bral cortex  between  the  initial  experience  and  the  recol- 
lection of  it  is,  therefore,  in  all  probability  a  change  in 
the  interneuronic  resistance  such  as  to  alter  the  physio- 
logical equilibrium  of  the  component  neurons  of  some 
particular  associational  system.  What  the  nature  of  this 
change  may  be  is  unknown,  but  it  is  conceivable  that  it 
might  take  the  form  of  a  permanent  modification  of  the 
synapses  between  the  neurons  which  were  functionally 
active  during  the  initial  experience  such  as  to  facilitate 
the  active  participation  of  the  same  neurons  in  the  same 
physiological  pattern  during  the  reproduction." 

The  writer  once  met  a  patient  in  a  hospital  who,  thru 
an  injury  to  the  head,  had  been  made  practically  aphasic ; 
he  was  unable  to  remember  the  names  of  common  objects 
or  of  familiar  persons  and  places.  If  one  pointed  to  his 
coat  and  asked  him  what  it  was  he  could  not  answer.  If 
he  were  told  that  it  was  a  coat  and  then  his  vest  was 
pointed  to,  he  could  say  vest,  and  could  name  the  other 
articles  of  clothing.  But  if  one  pointed  to  the  pencil  in 
his  hand,  he  could  not  name  it.  When  told  that  it  wras  a 
pencil  he  could  then  name  the  paper,  the  ink,  etc.  Asked 
where  he  lived,  he  could  not  tell,  but  after  some  little  time, 
during  which  he  seemed  to  be  struggling  hard  to  recall 
the  address,  he  finally  said  "1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11, 
12,  13,  1313  South  Street,"  which  was  correct.  When 

[111] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

asked  the  name  of  his  nurse  he  went  thru  the  same 
struggle  and  finally  said,  "Sunday,  Monday,  Tuesday, 
Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  fish,  Miss  Fischer." 

We  have  in  these  examples  an  illustration  of  memory 
and  recall  by  means  of  a  logical  association.  In  the  case 
of  the  coat  or  pencil,  it  was  an  association  to  the  general 
concept  of  clothing  or  writing  material  and  while  he 
could  not  get  it  even  this  way  at  first,  when  once  that  gen- 
eral centre  was  aroused  by  his  being  told  that  the  first 
object  was  a  coat,  it  was  then  easy  to  arouse  the  neuron 
pattern  that  stood  for  vest  or  other  articles  of  clothing; 
similarly  with  the  writing  material.  When  asked  for  the 
place  where  he  lived  he  could  not  make  the  direct  associa- 
tion between  "where  I  live,"  and  "1313  South  Street," 
but  he  knew  that  he  wanted  a  number  and  counting  being 
a  relatively  automatic  matter  had  not  been  destroyed  by 
the  disease,  so  that  he  was  able  to  say  1,  2,  3,  and  when 
he  got  to  13,  was  able  to  say  1313  South  Street.  The  last 
illustration  is  perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  all  since 
it  shows  a  very  roundabout  way  of  associating  his  nurse's 
name  with  fish,  and  fish  with  Friday  of  the  week.  Again, 
the  names  of  the  week  being  automatic  he  was  able  to  get 
hold  of  them,  and  starting  with  the  first  to  enumerate 
them  until  he  got  to  the  one  he  wanted.  We  see  the  situ- 
ation clearly  in  this  special  instance,  where  the  disease 
had  destroyed  the  extraneous  associations  and  left  only 
the  fundamental  ones  which  have  been  used  most. 

But  the  plan,  once  understood  from  this  special  case,  is 
easily  discernible  in  many  of  our  ordinary  memories. 
Who,  for  instance,  has  not  had  the  experience  of  going  to 
another  room  for  some  desired  object  and  arriving  in  the 
room,  not  being  able  to  remember  why  he  came.  His 
method  of  recall  will  be  exactly  like  that  of  the  aphasic 

[112] 


ASSOCIATIVE  MEMORY 

patient.  He  will  recall  what  he  was  working  on,  what  he 
was  thinking  about,  how  far  he  had  gotten  in  his  problem 
and  what  it  was  that  he  needed,  and  by  this  roundabout 
process  it  will  finally  result  that  the  nerve  pattern  that 
underlies  the  name  or  appearance  of  the  object  that  he 
wants  will  come  to  consciousness  and  the  problem  is 
solved. 

One  reads  in  the  paper  of  Vladivostock  and  he  asks 
himself  what  and  where  is  Vladivostock.  The  probabili- 
ties are  that  his  school  geography  association  has  long 
since  been  obliterated,  but  he  is  reading  about  Eussia. 
He  concludes  that  it  is  somewhere  in  Russia ;  the  context 
indicates  that  it  is  a  city,  a  city  in  Russia ;  he  thinks  of  the 
cities  of  Russia ;  he  thinks  how  he  would  go  by  rail  from 
Moscow  to  St.  Petersburg,  from  St.  Petersburg  some- 
where else;  he  thinks  of  the  great  Trans-Siberian  Rail- 
way, and  gradually  and,  at  first  vaguely,  it  comes  to  his 
mind  that  Vladivostock  is  the  Pacific  terminal  of  the 
Trans-Siberian  Railway,  and  his  question  is  answered. 

We  have  already  seen  how  names  of  objects  are  ac- 
quired by  association;  seeing  the  object  and  hearing  it 
named  at  the  same  time  results  in  a  connection  between 
two  neuron  patterns,  so  that  whenever  either  part  of  the 
combined  neuron  pattern  is  stimulated,  it  arouses  the 
other  part  and  the  name  results ;  or,  given  the  name,  the 
visual  image  of  the  object  results.  Now  the  ability  to 
make  these  elaborate  and  complicated  associations, 
which  result  in  such  memories  as  we  have  illustrated 
or  even  more  complex  ones,  depends  upon  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  development  of  the  neuron  pattern.  An 
individual,  whose  neuron  systems  have  fully  developed  in 
the  brain  and  have  been  actively  used  in  the  making  of 
thousands  and  millions  of  associations,  has  the  mechan- 

[113] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ism  for  recalling  these  things  that  have  once  been  in  his 
consciousness. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  individual,  whose  brain  has 
ceased  to  develop  before  these  more  elaborate  neuron 
centres  have  developed,  can  never  make  these  associa- 
tions. It  must  be  clearly  understood  that  this  does  not 
mean  that  a  person  of  undeveloped  mind  could  not  re- 
member that  Vladivostock  is  the  Pacific  terminal  of  the 
Trans-Siberian  Railway ;  he  can  make  that  direct  associ- 
ation as  easily  as  he  can  make  many  others  that  sound 
more  simple.  What  we  are  saying  is,  that  not  having 
that  association  directly  available,  he  could  never  get  at 
the  goal  he  seeks  by  the  roundabout  associations  that  we 
illustrate. 

The  idiot  associates  the  sight  of  food  with  the  process 
of  eating,  he  associates  the  sight  of  his  attendant  with 
certain  activities  and  pleasures  perhaps.  The  idiot  can 
learn  to  say  7  and  6  are  13,  but  if  he  ever  forgets  that  di- 
rect association  he  can  in  no  way  discover  how  many  are  6 
and  7.  And  of  course  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  if  he  gets 
it,  it  means  nothing  whatever  to  him. 

The  writer  has  heard  idiots,  or  at  least  low  grade 
imbeciles,  with  a  mentality  of  from  2  to  4,  recite 
Psalms  as  long  as  one  was  willing  to  listen.  This  prob- 
ably came  about  from  the  fact  that  under  the  older  psy- 
chology it  was  thot  that  we  trained  the  mind  by  training 
the  memory;  and  we  trained  the  memory  by  using  it. 
The  man  in  charge  of  this  particular  group  of  idiots,  be- 
ing a  clergyman,  naturaRy  concluded  that  the  best  thing 
for  the  child  to  exercise  his  memory  upon  was  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  consequently  these  children  were  laboriously 
taught  to  make  those  associations.  That  it  had  any 
meaning  whatever  for  them  is  of  course  unthinkable. 

[114] 


MEMORY  IN  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

The  principle  here  involved  also  explains  many  of 
the  spectacular  feats  of  memory  of  young  children  and  of 
the  feeble-minded  in  the  public  schools.  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  find  feeble-minded  children  in  the  high  schools. 
Now  a  strictly  high  school  pupil,  that  is,  one  who  can  in- 
telligently do  first  year  high  school  work,  is  not  feeble- 
minded; but  the  feeble-minded  child  gets  into  the  high 
school  by  virtue  of  his  good  memory.  The  teacher  in  the 
lower  grades  makes  the  associations  for  him,  the  child 
memorizes  them,  is  able  to  answer  the  questions  and  pass 
the  examinations,  and  so  gets  promoted  to  the  high 
school.  But  he  can  make  none  of  the  indirect  associa- 
tions, he  has  none  of  the  wealth  of  associations  which 
underlie  good  judgment  and  reasoning  processes. 

There  are  thus  all  degrees  of  capacity  for  memory 
and  recall  and  the  person  that  has  the  highest  degree, 
what  we  might  for  the  sake  of  illustration  call  a  perfect 
memory,  will  be  able  to  reason  out  the  most  abstruse 
problems,  provided  his  neuron  patterns  have  ever  been 
stimulated,  that  is  to  say,  provided  he  has  in  mind  the 
necessary  facts.  He  may  not  be  able  to  go  directly  to  the 
solution  of  his  problem  by  a  simple  association,  but  he  is 
able  to  work  it  out  by  a  roundabout  method.  To  illus- 
trate further,  a  certain  student  was  asked  how  many 
cubic  inches  in  a  gallon;  he  did  not  remember,  a  simple 
association  that  an  idiot  might  repeat,  altho  as  already 
said,  unintelligently.  This  student,  not  being  able  to 
recall  the  direct  association,  began  to  think  if  there  was 
any  way  by  which  he  could  arrive  at  the  desired  number. 
He  could  not  think  of  any  association  to  bring  this  meas- 
ure, but  he  remembered  the  metric  system.  He  knew 
accurately  the  length  of  the  meter,  consequently  the  deci- 
meter, consequently  the  liter,  and  therefore  could  find  the 

[115] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

number  of  cubic  inches  in  the  liter;  he  also  knew  that  the 
liter  was  almost  exactly  one  quart.  Hence  he  had  the 
answer  within  a  fraction  of  a  cubic  inch.  It  may  not  be 
too  much  to  say  that  no  feeble-minded  child  of  any  grade 
could  have  worked  out  such  a  series  of  associations  and 
have  arrived  at  the  result,  even  tho  he  had  memorized 
the  metric  system  and  knew  all  the  other  facts  that  are  in- 
volved in  the  above  illustration. 

Altho  there  is  more  involved  and  much  that  will 
have  to  be  discussed  later,  it  may  be  of  value  to  point  out 
here  that  this  is  one  of  the  elements  in  our  testing  of 
intelligence.  It  is  only  necessary  to  devise  a  series  of 
questions  that  cannot  be  answered  by  direct  association 
but  must  be  worked  out  by  a  process  of  roundabout  asso- 
ciation and  then  by  grading  these  questions  from  the 
simple  and  direct  response  to  the  very  indirect  one,  to  de- 
termine how  far  along  this  scale  the  individual  has  gone. 

For  example,  suppose  we  have  this  problem:  " There 
are  three  men  desiring  to  cross  the  river,  one  of  them 
weighs  300  pounds,  the  other  two  each  weigh  150  pounds. 
A  boat  is  at  hand  but  it  will  carry  only  300  pounds  safely, 
how  will  they  cross  the  river?"  Undeveloped  mind  at  a, 
certain  stage  says,  "I  don't  know  the  answer,"  and 
that  is  all  there  is  to  it.  Not  knowing  the  answer  he  has 
no  conception  that  it  is  possible,  by  any  roundabout 
method  of  reasoning,  to  work  out  the  solution.  Another 
person  may  have  had  some  experience  that  enables  him 
to  remember  that  you  can  take  two  people  over  and  bring 
one  person  back,  and  he  tried  to  apply  that  but,  not  se- 
lecting the  right  persons,  he  cannot  get  the  solution,  and 
so  gives  it  up.  The  person  with  a  highly  developed  log- 
ical memory  and  logical  association  sees  at  once  the 
solution  of  the  problem. 

[116] 


CREATIVE  IMAGINATION 

Imagination. — In  a  previous  chapter  we  discussed  re- 
productive imagination — a  reproduction  of  simple  im- 
ages. We  now  come  to  the  consideration  of  another  kind. 
Popularly,  imagination  is  a  symbol  for  the  wildest  va- 
garies of  the  human  mind — images  of  things  that  never 
have  been  experienced,  indeed  never  existed  in  the  world. 
Furthermore  it  is  popularly  supposed  that  the  possibili- 
ties of  imagination  are  unlimited.  This  is  the  creative 
imagination  of  psychology,  and  is  expressive  of  the  pos- 
sibilities of  unlimited  combinations  of  neuron  patterns. 
It  underlies  invention,  elaboration  of  thot,  and  all  the 
higher  mental  processes.  It  is  a  very  fundamental  condi- 
tion for  intelligence  and  that  power  of  adaptation  to  a 
new  situation  which  characterizes  the  intelligent  man. 

But  imagination  is  not  unlimited  in  the  way  the  popular 
conception  holds.  One  can  indeed  create  imaginary  pic- 
tures to  an  unlimited  extent,  but  the  elements  that  enter 
into  any  imaginary  picture  are  all  matters  of  experience. 
In  other  words,  one  forms  new  associations  by  bringing 
together  the  neuron  patterns  that  have  already  been 
formed  in  the  brain,  but  it  is  impossible  to  put  into  this 
picture  anything  that  has  not  been  experienced — using 
experience  in  the  broad  sense  to  include  what  we  have 
referred  to  as  vicarious  experience.  I  may  never  have 
seen  St.  Peter's  Cathedral  in  Rome,  but  I  have  heard  it 
described  or  I  have  seen  pictures  of  it  and  thus  have  a 
kind  of  image  with  its  neuron  pattern.  That  image,  such 
as  it  is,  I  can  weave  into  any  imaginary  picture  that  I 
may  wish  to  formulate. 

The  statement  that  one  cannot  imagine  what  he  has  not 
experienced  is  very  easily  verfied  by  trying  to  imagine 
a  colour  that  one  has  never  seen,  or  by  attempting  to  draw 
or  describe  an  imaginary  animal.  In  such  an  experiment 

[117] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

one  quickly  discovers  that  lie  cannot  put  into  his  imagi- 
nary picture  anything,  the  details  of  which  have  not  al- 
ready been  experienced.  But  how  are  these  different  ele- 
ments brot  together?  How  do  they  become  associated? 
The  answer  is,  either  by  contiguity  or  by  similarity,  more 
often  of  course  the  latter,  since  more  of  our  adult  asso- 
ciations are  of  that  kind.  One  difference  between  the 
more  intelligent  and  the  less  intelligent  person  is  a  differ- 
ence in  the  ability  to  perceive  the  similarity,  which  in  turn 
is  dependent  upon  the  elaborateness  of  the  original  neu- 
ron pattern. 

Wit  consists  in  the  ability  to  see  the  similarity  between 
things  not  usually  thot  of  as  similar;  thus  bringing  to- 
gether, by  this  discovered  point  of  similarity,  things  that 
are  incongruous  and  that  hold  the  attention  and  interest 
because  of  their  absolute  newness.  Punning  furnishes  an 
excellent  illustration  of  this  process.  Here  two  incongru- 
ous things  are  brot  together  in  thot  by  the  similarity  in 
sound  of  the  words  describing  them.  When  the  English 
Bible  was  being  revised  it  was  thot  desirable  to  improve 
the  passage  "  And  they  received  every  man  a  penny,"  be- 
cause " penny"  gives  the  wrong  impression  of  the  amount 
of  wages  paid.  Some  one  suggested  that  they  use  the 
English  form  of  the  original  word  " Denarius,"  making  it 
read,  *  *  They  received  every  one  a  Denary, ' '  to  which  one 
member  of  the  board  of  revision  replied  that  he  should 
object  to  having  the  Bible  state  that  "they  received  every 
man  a  Deanery. ' '  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  in  The  Auto- 
crat of  the  Breakfast  Table  interrupts  the  young  man 
who  begins  to  talk  about  capital  punishment  by  saying, 
4 'Oh!  I  thot  you  said,  'A  capital  pun  is  meant.'  The 
visual  pun  is  illustrated  in  all  of  those  instances  where 
the  matter  has  to  be  seen  in  order  to  be  appreciated. 

[118] 


WIT 

Holmes'  famous  pun,  when  he  said  that  a  man  should 
never  laugh  because  man's  laughter  is  the  same  thing  as 
man-slaughter,  well  illustrates  this  point. 

When  the  association  between  two  incongruous  situa- 
tions or  concepts  is  made  thru  the  similarty  of  ideas,  in- 
stead of  the  auditory  or  visual  words,  we  have  wit.  To 
quote  Holmes  again,  he  says  that  a  pun  is  often  called  the 
lowest  form  of  wit,  but  that  is  because  it  is  the  foundation 
of  all  wit.  The  witticism  here  comes  about  thru  the  ap- 
preciated similarity  between  the  foundation  and  the  low- 
est part  of  a  structure. 

All  ingenuity  involves  constructive  imagination,  since 
it  consists  in  perceiving  the  similarity  between  two 
things,  one  of  which  is  a  matter  of  experience  and  the 
other  something  desired.  Efficiency,  or  the  ability  to 
solve  new  problems,  to  adapt  one's  self  to  new  situations 
by  means  of  past  experience,  consists  in  perceiving  the 
similarities  between  two  situations.  In  all  these  we  have 
the  same  principle  which  we  described  under  association 
by  similarity.  A  new  situation  is  presented  to  the  senses 
and  a  neuron  pattern  is  thereby  set  into  activity.  Some 
part  of  this  pattern  is  the  same  as  that  which  entered 
into  a  past  experience.  It  therefore  connects  with  the 
past  experience  and  that  experience  comes  into  conscious- 
ness and  becomes  the  solution  of  the  present  situation. 
The  possession  of  the  adequate  neuron  pattern  is  thus 
the  underlying  condition  for  all  these  various  forms  of 
intelligent  action,  and  as  before,  the  possession  of  this 
adequate  neuron  pattern  is  itself  contingent  upon:  first, 
the  possession  of  fully  developed  neurons;  and  second, 
the  necessary  experience  which  has  combined  them  into 
a  pattern. 

One  further  question  may  arise  in  the  mind  of  the 

[119] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

reader  at  this  point,  namely,  how  does  it  happen  that  one 
selects  the  right  pattern?  The  new  situation  may  bear  a 
resemblance  to  a  great  many  past  experiences,  most  of 
which  would  be  useless  at  the  present  time.  The  usual 
answer  to  this  question  is  that  we  somehow  have  the 
power  of  selection,  or  choice.  What  this  actually  means 
we  shall  leave  for  a  future  chapter. 

Let  us  now  picture  the  imagnation  of  the  defective. 
The  reader  is  doubtless  already  able  to  give  an  adequate 
answer  to  the  question,  "To  what  extent  are  defectives 
imaginative?"  since  it  is  clear  that  reproductive  imag- 
ination involving  only  the  revival  of  images  in  simple 
neuron  patterns  is  easily  possible  for  all  minds  who  have 
the  simple  patterns;  and  we  have  already  pointed  out 
that  even  defectives  have  these  patterns.  But  since  con- 
structive or  creative  imagination  involves  elaborate  as- 
sociation processes,  with  the  elaborate  neuron  patterns 
which  can  have  been  developed  only  by  extensive  experi- 
ence, we  may  expect  here  to  find  the  defective  decidedly 
lacking ;  and  such  proves  to  be  the  case. 

One  of  the  most  obvious  facts  about  defectives  is  their 
inefficiency,  their  inability  to  adapt  themselves  to  new 
situations.  We  have  given  many  examples  and  could 
continue  them  indefinitely.  The  feeble-minded  are  not 
inventive;  they  are  not  witty,  except  by  accident;  they 
never  make  puns  except  of  the  simplest  and  most  obvious 
kinds  and  their  jokes  are  of  the  crudest.  A  high  grade 
moron  was  asked  about  his  "brother."  He  replied,  "He 
is  my  half  brother,  not  my  full  brother,  tho  I  have  often 
seen  him  full."  The  writer  was,  on  one  occasion  at- 
tempting to  entertain  the  inmates  of  an  institution  for  the 
feeble-minded.  He  happened  to  mention  that  while  moun- 
tain climbing  he  had  often  eaten  bean  soup.  These  chil- 

[120] 


UNITY  OF  MIND 

dren  had  a  well  developed  neuron  pattern  for  bean  soup, 
since  it  is  an  occasional  article  of  diet  in  the  institution. 
Seeing  that  the  children  appreciated  this  reference,  the 
writer  repeated  it  for  their  amusement  a  great  many 
times  in  the  course  of  the  entertainment,  and  every  time 
it  met  with  increasing  response.  Not  only  that,  but  even 
to  this  day,  after  eight  years,  many  of  these  defectives 
who  heard  that  story  still  enjoy  the  joke;  and  some  of 
them  never  fail  to  refer  to  it  day  after  day  whenever  we 
meet.  This  fairly  indicates  the  level  of  mental  defectives 
so  far  as  humour  is  concerned. 

The  foregoing  considerations  give  us  some  very  defi- 
nite principles  for  the  care  and  training  of  defectives. 
But  this  will  be  considered  in  a  later  chapter. 

The  reader  has  doubtless  been  conscious  of  certain  diffi- 
culties in  the  foregoing  discussion  amounting  almost  to 
confusion.  Not  only  does  imagination  differ  very 
slightly  from  memory  but  both  seem  like  association,  the 
latter  also  seems  like  attention.  It  is  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish one  from  the  others.  And  indeed  there  is  no 
possibility  of  differentiating  because  they  are  all  one 
and  the  same  thing.  There  is  no  better  evidence  that 
what  we  call  memory  and  attention  and  association  and 
imagination  are  only  different  phases  of  the  same  mental 
process,  than  just  this  confusion.  Nevertheless  it  seems 
convenient  to  have  the  varied  terminology  partly  because 
it  is  a  matter  of  popular  speech,  and  partly  because  it  is 
convenient  to  think  of  mind  as  now  memory,  now  imagi- 
nation, now  association,  now  attention. 

There  is  still  another  mental  state  that  we  spoke  of  as 
belonging  to  the  very  nature  of  the  nervous  system;  it 
is  emotion.  We  have  now  to  consider  this  new  phase  of 
mental  life  and  the  effect  upon  consciousness  or  mind  of 

[121] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

this  extension  of  nerve  activity  into  an  entirely  new  nerv- 
ous mechanism. 

Summary 

1.  The  extension  of  nerve  action  into  the  large  associa- 
tion areas  enormously  extends  memory,  giving  us  associ- 
ative memory. 

2.  Similarly  reproductive  imagination  becomes  supple- 
mented by  creative  imagination. 

3.  Wit  is  creative  imagination — a  bringing  together 
thru  association  by  similarity,  of  things  not  usually  asso- 
ciated. 

4.  The  mental  defective  is  deficient  in  creative  imag- 
ination as  in  associative  memory. 

5.  The  lack  of  creative  imagination  explains  their  gen- 
eral lack  of  wit  and  humour. 

6.  The  recognized  difficulty  of  clearly  differentiating 
association,  memory,  attention  and  imagination  as  mental 
processes  point  strongly  to  the  unity  of  mind. 


[122] 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  AFFECTIVE  SIDE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

WE  have  so  far  considered  only  the  mental  processes  that 
depend  upon  the  activity  of  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous 
system.  Now  we  turn  to  a  wholly  different  phase  of 
mind,  and  yet  one  that  is  not  only  prominent,  but  also 
very  important  in  all  mental  life,  since  it  has  to  do  with 
the  comfort  or  the  discomfort,  the  happiness  or  the  un- 
happiness  of  the  individual. 

In  McDougall's  (34)  definition  of  instinct  (quoted  p. 
38)  he  says  that  the  inherited  psycho-physical  disposi- 
tion determines  its  possessor  to  "pay  attention  to  objects 
of  a  certain  class,  to  experience  an  emotional  excitement 
of  a  particular  quality  upon  perceiving  such  an  object." 
Our  task  now  is  to  attempt  to  understand  something  of 
the  origin  and  nature  of  that  "emotional  excitement." 

One  phase  of  mental  life  familiar  to  every  one  is  the 
feelings,  technically  called  the  affective  side,  the  affec- 
tions. Up  to  the  present  time  we  have  spoken  of  the 
neuron  patterns  as  tho  they  were  simple  machines;  the 
stimulus  starts  the  energy  which  flows  thru  the  pattern 
and  the  circuit  is  complete  when  it  has  led  to  the  contrac- 
tion of  a  muscle.  We  described  the  course  of  energy 
when  something  presses  upon  the  toe  and  the  toe  is  moved 
or  the  foot  withdrawn.  So  far  the  process  seems  to  be  a 
rather  complicated  mechanical  device  for  getting  some- 
thing done,  but  there  is  always  another  element.  Not 
only  is  there  an  action  in  response  to  a  stimulus,  but  also 

[123] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

a  certain  feeling  about  it;  there  is  a  stronger  or  weaker 
feeling  of  pleasure,  or  of  displeasure,  in  connection  with 
the  process.  In  certain  cases,  notably  in  connection  with 
instinctive  action,  this  feeling  takes  on  a  particular  char- 
acter and  strength  and  becomes  what  we  recognize  as 
emotion.  Every  one  knows  better  than  he  can  describe 
what  is  meant  by  fear,  anger,  wonder  and  similar  feel- 
ings or  emotions. 

Just  what  this  feeling  is  or  whence  it  arises  has  never 
been  clearly  understood ;  but  there  are  a  few  known  facts 
which  will  enable  us  to  formulate  an  hypothesis  that  will 
help  us  to  clear  thinking. 

We  would  best  look  first  at  some  of  the  stronger  emo- 
tions in  order  to  see  the  characteristics  most  fully  de- 
veloped. If  we  consider  any  strong  emotion,  such  as 
fear  or  anger,  we  are  at  once  struck  by  the  fact  that  we 
have  a  completely  new  set  of  phenomena.  It  is  no  longer 
a  simple  case,  such  as  we  have  described,  of  a  ray  of  light 
striking  upon  the  retina  and  passing  to  the  cortex,  arous- 
ing a  sensation  with  a  consequent  movement,  all  of  which 
we  have  explained  by  simple  neuron  patterns;  but  we 
have  large  areas  of  the  body  affected,  whole  systems  of 
tissues,  of  muscles,  of  blood  vessels ;  and  a  physical  effect 
seemingly  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  stimulus. 

Let  us  take  fear  as  an  example.  We  have  the  neuron 
pattern  as  already  described.  This  may  be  excited  di- 
rectly by  an  external  stimulus  or  indirectly  from  some 
other  centre  of  the  brain.  But  besides  the  simple  mus- 
cular activity  in  response  to  the  stimulus  we  may  have 
a  changed  heart  beat ;  either  an  acceleration  or  a  slowing, 
a  flushing  of  the  face  or  other  parts  of  the  skin,  or  a  pale- 
ness ;  perhaps  a  choking  in  the  throat ;  the  mouth  becomes 
dry,  due  to  a  cessation  of  the  secretion  of  the  salivary 

[124] 


EMOTION 

glands.  Little  muscles  under  the  skin  begin  to  contract 
all  over  the  body  and  we  have  the  condition  known  as 
goose  flesh.  Larger  muscles  contract  violently  and  we 
have  a  rigour.  Respiration  is  affected  and  we  breathe 
rapidly  or  else  the  breath  comes  slowly.  These  and  other 
effects  are  among  the  most  noticeable  results.  But  be- 
sides these  there  are  others.  A  state  of  fear  may  destroy 
the  appetite  and  interfere  with  digestion.  Sweat  glands 
may  become  active  and  we  have  the  cold  perspiration. 
Organs  of  excretion  are  uncontrolled  and  we  may  have 
involuntary  urination  or  defecation.  The  lachrymal 
glands  may  be  affected  and  tears  flow. 

Not  all  of  these  effects  always  appear  in  the  same  indi- 
vidual nor  are  they  the  result  of  fear  alone.  There  are 
great  individual  differences.  But  all  the  facts  indicate 
that  these  emotions  are  somehow  connected  with  some 
very  fundamental  functions  of  the  human  organism.  In 
general  it  is  agreed  that  unpleasant  emotions  interfere 
with  normal  activities  of  the  organism,  while  pleasant 
emotions  help  and  promote  these  functions.  With  many 
people  digestion  is  markedly  affected;  they  are  thrown 
into  a  serious  condition  of  indigestion  by  unpleasant  emo- 
tion such  as  comes,  for  example,  from  the  reception  of 
bad  news  at  meal  time.  Some  people  faint  at  the  sight 
of  blood ;  certain  odours  produce  the  same  effect  in  others. 
Our  language  is  full  of  expressions  that  indicate  this, 
such  as  being  paralyzed  by  fear,  blind  with  rage;  some 
cry  for  joy  as  well  as  for  grief. 

Moreover,  these  physical  conditions  aroused  by  the 
stimulus  do  not  stop  when  the  stimulus  is  removed.  The 
indigestion  produced  by  bad  news  is  not  at  once  cured 
when  the  bad  news  is  suddenly  shown  to  be  false.  The 
evil  consequences  accompanying  the  " seeing  a  ghost" 

[125] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

do  not  always  cease  as  soon  as  it  is  discovered  that  the 
ghost  is  one's  friend  clad  in  a  sheet. 

It  is  clear  that  we  have,  in  the  foregoing,  facts  that 
are  difficult  of  explanation  by  any  adaptation  of  the  mech- 
anism so  far  described.  That  the  explanation  has  been 
difficult  is  attested  by  the  fact  that  no  subject  has  been  so 
vaguely  and  unsatisfactorily  treated  by  writers  as  the 
psychology  of  the  emotions.  Years  ago  Prof.  James  and 
about  the  same  time  Prof.  Lange  of  Denmark  gave  us  an 
hypothesis  that  has  caused  much  discussion.  These  men 
made  the  chief  element  in  emotion  the  flood  of  sensa- 
tions coming  from  the  great  body  of  muscles  that  were, 
set  into  activity  by  the  stimuli  that  would  usually  be  con- 
sidered as  "causing  the  emotion."  While  having  its  de- 
fenders, this  theory  has  never  come  into  universal  ac- 
ceptance. 

In  1899  Angelo  Mosso,  (41)  the  Italian  physiologist, 
announced  the  results  of  some  very  original  experiments 
on  the  effect  of  emotional  states  on  the  contractions  of 
the  bladder.  In  that  connection  he  stated :  "The  seat  of 
the  emotions  lies  in  the  sympathetic  nervous  system." 

Quite  recently  Cannon  (8)  and  also  Crile  (11)  have 
demonstrated  physiological  connections  between  emotion 
and  glandular  influence  by  way  of  the  sympathetic  sys- 
tem. 

The  extreme  delicacy  of  the  mechanism  of  the  sympa- 
thetic system  was  shown  by  Mosso 's  experiments.  He 
says:  "It  was  sufficient  to  speak  kindly  to  the  animals 
or  to  caress  them,  to  make  the  curve  express  the  psychic 
influence  upon  their  affective  movements. ' ' 

To  one  of  his  women  subjects  he  said:  "Now  I  am 
going  to  pinch  you,"  but  without  doing  so.  "Imme- 
diately the  bladder  contracted  without  the  slightest 

[126] 


/nrrocAsmic  riavs 


Ganglion 


Fig.  3.  A,  the  sympathetic  system  showing  its  location  in  the  body. 

Fig.  3.  B,  the  same  removed.  The  black  knots  in  the  chain  are  the  sym- 
pathetic ganglia :  the  paired  lines  extending  to  the  left  from  each  gan- 
glion are  the  rami  communicantes  or  connecting  branches  that  join  the 
sympathetic  system  to  the  cerebro-spinal.  This  chain  is  just  outside 
the  spinal  column. 

From  Van  Geliuchten  after  Schivabbe 


EMOTION  AND  THE  SYMPATHETIC  SYSTEM 

change  in  the  thoracic  and  abdominal  respiration. ' '  This 
simple  arithmetical  problem:  "How  many  eggs  are  7 
dozen?"  produced  the  same  result.  He  sums  it  up  by 
saying:  "We  understand  now  that  the  constant  and  fun- 
damental movements  taking  place  in  emotions  are  the 
movements  of  the  internal  organ  of  vegetative  life.  This 
end  could  be  obtained  only  thru  the  sympathetic  system. ' ' 

We  must  therefore  extend  our  view  of  neuron  action 
beyond  the  cerebro-spinal  system,  to  which  we  have  so 
far  confined  ourselves,  into  the  great  and  intricate  sym- 
pathetic system. 

Science  has  not  yet  explained  many  of  the  details  of 
the  way  the  sympathetic  system  functions,  but  we  may  as- 
sume certain  hypotheses  which  will  give  us  a  working 
plan. 

We  have  shown,  Fig.  3,  that  the  sympathetic  is  con- 
nected with  the  cerebro-spinal  system  at  every  vertebra 
along  the  spinal  stem  by  connecting  branches,  the  rami 
communicant es.  The  white  ramus  conveys  outgoing 
stimuli,  the  grey  ramus,  the  incoming.  The  neurons  from 
each  of  the  two  systems  pass  thru  these  rami  into  the 
other  system,  thus  making  the  connection  complete.  It 
was  pointed  out  that  the  neurons  of  the  spinal  cord,  thru 
their  branches,  were  in  connection  with  a  great  many  dif- 
ferent neurons.  Among  these  different  neurons  are  those 
of  the  sympathetic  system;  so  that  it  is  easy  to  uder- 
stand  that  a  stimulus  coming  in  over  a  sensory  neuron, 
passing  to  various  parts  of  the  cord  or  up  to  the  cortex, 
also  sends  some  of  the  energy  by  one  of  its  branches 
into  the  sympathetic  system. 

Moreover,  comparative  anatomy  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem shows  that  the  sympathetic  is  the  oldest  of  all  nerv- 
ous structures  and  therefore  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the 

[127] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

neuron  patterns  here  are  practically  all  inherited. 
Therefore  the  neurokyme  flows  naturally  and  easily  into 
the  sympathetic  system  and  in  accordance  with  the  the- 
ory of  development  we  may  conclude  that  it  produces 
such  action  as  is  beneficial  for  the  individual  or  the  race. 
Fig.  3  gives  some  idea  of  the  elaborateness  of  the  sympa- 
thetic system,  the  enormous  extent  to  which  it  ramifies 
to  the  internal  organs  and  glands. 

We  must  now  go  a  little  more  into  detail.  The  follow- 
ing is  condensed  from  Cannon  (8) : 

"The  skeletal  muscles  receive  their  nerve  supply  di- 
rectly from  the  central  nervous  system.  The  neurons 
distributed  to  these  muscles  are  parts  of  neurons  whose 
cell  bodies  lie  within  the  brain  or  spinal  cord.  The 
glands  and  smooth  muscles  of  the  viscera,  on  the  con- 
trary, are,  so  far  as  is  now  known,  never  innervated  di- 
rectly from  the  central  nervous  system.  The  neurons 
reaching  out  from  the  brain  or  spinal  cord  never  come 
into  immediate  relation  with  the  gland  or  smooth-muscle 
cells;  there  are  always  interposed  between  the  cerebro- 
spinal  neurons  and  the  viscera  extra  neurons  whose 
bodies  and  processes  lie  wholly  outside  the  central  nerv- 
ous system.  They  are  represented  in  dotted  lines  in  Fig. 
41.  I  have  suggested  that  possibly  these  outlying  neu- 
rons acted  as  'transformers,'  modifying  the  impulses 
received  from  the  central  source  (impulses  suited  to  call 
forth  the  quick  responses  of  skeletal  muscle),  and  adapt- 
ing these  impulses  to  the  peculiar,  more  slowly-acting  tis- 
sues, the  secreting  cells  and  visceral  muscle,  to  which 
they  are  distributed. 

' '  The  outlying  neurons  typically  have  their  cell  bodies 

[128] 


Fig. 


Tear  gland 
Dilator  of  pupil 

Artery  of  salivary  gland 

Hair 

Surface  artery 

Sweat  gland 

Heart 

Hair 

Surface  artery 
Sweat  gland 

Liver 

Stomach 

Visceral  artery 
Spleen 

Intestine 


Adrenal  gland 

Hair 

Surface  artery 

Sweat  gland 


Colon 

Bladder 

Rectum 

Artery  of  external 
genitals 

41.  Diagram  of  the  more  important  distributions  of  the 
autonomic  nervous  system  The  brain  and  spinal  cord  are 
represented  at  the  left.  Note  the  little  plus  and  minus 
signs,  -f~  indicates  stimulating  effect;  —  indicates  inhibi- 
tory effect. 


CANNON  QUOTED 

grouped  in  ganglia  (G's,  Fig.  41)  which,  in  the  trunk 
region,  lie  along  either  side  of  the  spinal  cord  and  in  the 
head  region  and  in  the  pelvic  part  of  the  abdominal 
cavity  are  disposed  near  the  organs  which  the  neurons 
supply.  In  some  instances  these  neurons  lie  wholly 
within  the  structure  which  they  innervate  (see  e.g.,  the 
heart  and  the  stomach,  Fig.  41).  In  other  instances  the 
fibres  passing  out  from  the  ganglia — the  so-called  'post- 
ganglionic  fibres' — may  traverse  long  distances  before 
reaching  their  destination.  The  innervation  of  blood  ves- 
sels in  the  foot  by  neurons  whose  cell  bodies  are  in  the 
lower  trunk  region  is  an  example  of  this  extensive  distri- 
bution of  the  fibres. 

"As  suggested  above,  the  outlying  neurons  are  con- 
nected with  the  brain  and  spinal  cord  by  neurons  whose 
cell  bodies  lie  within  the  central  nervous  organs.  These 
connecting  neurons,  represented  in  continuous  lines  in 
Fig.  41,  do  not  pass  out  in  a  continuous  series  all  along  the 
cerebrospinal  axis.  Where  the  nerves  pass  out  from  the 
spinal  cord  to  the  fore  and  hind  limbs,  fibres  are  not  given 
off  to  the  ganglia.  Thus  these  connecting  or  'pregangli- 
onic'  fibres  are  separated  into  three  divisions.  In  front 
of  the  nerve  roots  for  the  fore  limbs  is  the  head  or  cranial 
division,  between  the  nerve  roots  for  the  fore  limbs  and 
those  for  the  hind  limbs  is  the  trunk  division  (or  tho- 
radico-lumbar  division,  or,  in  the  older  terminology,  the 
'sympathetic  system') ;  and  after  the  nerve  roots  for  the 
hind  limbs  the  sacral  division. 

'  *  This  system  of  outlying  neurons,  with  postganglionic 
fibres  innervating  the  viscera,  and  with  preganglionic 
fibres  reaching  out  to  them  from  the  cerebrospinal  sys- 
tem, has  been  called  by  Langley,  to  whom  we  are  in- 

[129] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

debted  for  most  of  our  knowledge  of  its  organization,  the 
autonomic  nervous  system.1  This  term  indicates  that 
the  structures  which  the  system  supplies  are  not  sub- 
ject to  voluntary  control,  but  operate  to  a  large  de- 
gree independently.  As  we  have  seen,  a  highly  potent 
mode  of  influencing  these  structures  is  thru  condi- 
tions of  pain  and  emotional  excitement.  The  parts  of  the 
autonomic  system — the  cranial,  the  sympathetic,  and  the 
sacral — have  a  number  of  peculiarities  which  are  of 
prime  importance  in  accounting  for  the  bodily  manifesta- 
tions of  such  affective  states. 

"The  fibres  of  the  sympathetic  division  differ  from 
those  of  the  other  two  divisions  in  being  distributed  thru 
the  body  very  widely.  They  go  to  the  eyes,  causing  di- 
lation of  the  pupils.  They  go  to  the  heart  and,  when 
stimulated,  they  cause  it  to  beat  rapidly.  They  carry 
impulses  to  arteries  and  arterioles  of  the  skin,  the  abdom- 
inal viscera,  and  other  parts,  keeping  the  smooth  muscles 
of  the  vessel  walls  in  a  state  of  slight  contraction  or  tone, 
and  thus  serving  to  maintain  an  arterial  pressure  suf- 
ficiently high  to  meet  sudden  demands  in  any  special  re- 
gion ;  or,  in  times  of  special  discharge  of  impulses,  to  in- 
crease the  tone  and  thus  also  the  arterial  pressure.  They 
are  distributed  extensively  to  the  smooth  muscle  attached 
to  the  hairs ;  and  when  they  cause  this  muscle  to  contract, 
the  hairs  are  erected.  They  go  to  sweat  glands,  causing 
the  outpouring  of  sweat.  These  fibres  pass  also  to  the 
entire  length  of  the  gastro-iritestinal  canal.  And  the  in- 
hibiton  of  digestive  activity  which,  as  we  have  learned, 
occurs  in  pain  and  emotional  states,  is  due  to  impulses 

i  What  we,  following  the  popular  terminology,  have  called  the  sympa- 
thetic system,  Cannon  here  calls  the  autonomic  nervous  system;  he  more- 
over divides  it  into  three  parts,  the  cervical,  the  sympathetic  and  the 
sacral  autonomic  nervous  systems. 

[130] 


CANNON  QUOTED 

which  are  conducted  outward  by  the  splanchnic  nerves — 
the  preganglionic  fibres  that  reach  to  the  great  ganglia 
in  the  upper  abdomen  (see  Fig.  41) — and  thence  are 
spread  by  postganglionic  fibres  all  along  the  gut.  They 
innervate  likewise  the  genito-urinary  tracts,  causing  a 
contraction  of  the  smooth  muscle  of  the  internal  genital 
organs,  and  usually  relaxation  of  the  bladder.  Finally 
they  affect  the  liver,  releasing  the  storage  of  material 
there  in  a  manner  which  may  be  of  great  service  to  the 
body  in  time  of  need.  The  extensiveness  of  the  distri- 
bution of  the  fibres  of  the  sympathetic  division  is  one  of 
its  most  prominent  characteristics. 

4 'The  cranial  and  sacral  autonomic  divisions  differ 
from  the  sympathetic  in  having  only  restricted  distribu- 
tion (see  Fig.  41).  The  third  cranial  nerves  deliver  im- 
pulses from  the  brain  to  ganglia  in  which  lie  the  cell 
bodies  of  neurons  innervating  smooth  muscle  only  in  the 
front  of  the  eyes.  The  vagus  nerves  are  distributed  to 
the  lungs,  heart,  stomach,  and  small  intestine.  As  shown 
diagrammatically  in  Fig.  41,  the  outlying  neurons  in  the 
last  three  of  these  organs  lie  within  the  organs  them- 
selves. 

"In  this  sacral  division  the  preganglionic  fibres  pass 
out  from  the  spinal  cord  to  ganglia  lying  in  close  prox- 
imity to  the  distal  colon,  the  bladder,  and  the  external 
genitals.  And  the  postganglionic  fibres  deliver  the  nerve 
impulses  only  to  the  near-by  organs.  Besides  these  in- 
nervations  the  cranial  and  sacral  divisions  supply  indi- 
vidual arteries  with  'dilator  nerves' — nerves  causing  re- 
laxation of  the  particular  vessels. 

"The  cranial  autonomic,  represented  by  the  vagus 
nerves,  is  the  part  of  the  visceral  nervous  system  con- 
cerned in  the  psychic  secretion  of  the  gastric  juice.  Pav- 

[131] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

lov  showed  that  when  these  nerves  are  severed  psychic 
secretion  is  abolished.  The  cranial  nerves  to  the  salivary 
glands  are  similarly  the  agents  for  psychic  secretion  in 
these  organs,  and  are  known  to  cause  also  dilation  of  the 
arteries  supplying  the  glands,  so  that  during  activity 
the  glands  receive  a  more  abundant  flow  of  blood. 

'  *  Great  emotion,  such  as  is  accompanied  by  nervous  dis- 
charges via  the  sympathetic  division,  may  also  be  accom- 
panied by  discharges  via  the  sacral  fibres.  The  involun- 
tary voiding  of  the  bladder  and  lower  gut  at  times  of  vio- 
lent mental  stress  is  well-known.  Veterans  of  wars  tes- 
tify that  just  before  the  beginning  of  a  battle  many  of 
the  men  have  had  to  retire  temporarily  from  the  firing 
line.  And  the  power  of  sights  and  smells  and  libidinous 
thoughts  to  disturb  the  regions  controlled  by  the  nervi 
erigentes  proves  that  this  part  of  the  autonomic  system 
also  has  its  peculiar  affective  states. 

"Lying  anterior  to  each  kidney  is  a  small  body — the 
adrenal  gland.  It  is  composed  of  an  external  portion  or 
cortex,  and  a  central  portion  or  medulla.  From  the 
medulla  can  be  extracted  a  substance,  called  variously 
suprarenin,  adrenin,  epinephrin  or  " adrenalin,"  which, 
in  extraordinarily  minute  amounts,  affects  the  structures 
innervated  by  the  sympathetic  division  of  the  autonomic 
system  precisely  as  if  they  were  receiving  nervous  im- 
pulses. For  example,  when  adrenin  is  injected  into  the 
blood  it  will  cause  pupils  to  dilate,  hairs  to  stand  erect, 
blood  vessels  to  be  constricted,  the  activities  of  the  ali- 
mentary canal  to  be  inhibited,  and  sugar  to  be  liberated 
from  the  liver.  These  effects  are  not  produced  by  action 
of  the  substance  on  the  central  nervous  system,  but  by 
direct  action  on  the  organ  itself.  And  the  effects  occur 

[132] 


CANNON  QUOTED 

even  after  the  structures  have  been  removed  from  the 
body  and  kept  alive  artificially. 

1  'The  adrenals  are  glands  of  internal  secretion,  i.e., 
like  the  thyroid,  parathyroid,  and  pituitary  glands,  for 
example ;  they  have  no  connection  with  the  surface  of  the 
body,  and  they  give  out  into  the  blood  the  material  which 
they  elaborate. 

' '  The  foregoing  brief  sketch  of  the  organization  of  the 
autonomic  system  brings  out  a  number  of  points  that 
should  be  of  importance  as  bearing  on  the  nature  of  the 
emotions  which  manifest  themselves  in  the  operations  of 
this  system.  Thus  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  sympa- 
thetic division,  because  arranged  for  diffuse  discharge, 
is  likely  to  be  brought  into  activity  as  a  whole,  whereas 
the  sacral  and  cranial  divisions,  arranged  for  particular 
action  on  separate  organs,  may  operate  in  parts.  Also, 
because  antagonisms  exist  between  the  middle  and 
either  end  division  of  the  autonomic,  effective  states  may 
be  classified  according  to  their  expression  in  the  middle 
or  an  end  division  and  these  states  would  be,  like  the 
nerves,  antagonistic  in  character.  And  finally,  since  the 
adrenal  glands  are  innervated  by  autonomic  fibres  of  the 
mid-division,  and  since  adrenal  secretion  stimulates  the 
same  activities  that  are  stimulated  nervously  by  this 
division,  it  is  possible  that  disturbances  in  the  realm  of 
the  sympathetic,  although  initiated  by  nervous  discharge, 
are  automatically  augmented  and  prolonged  thru  chem- 
ical effects  of  the  adrenal  secretion. 

"That  the  adrenal  glands  are  subject  to  splanchnic  in- 
fluence has  been  demonstrated  anatomically  and  by  the 
physiological  effects  of  their  secretion  after  artificial 
stimulation  of  the  splanchnic  nerves.  Impulses  are  nor- 

[133] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

mally  sent  along  these  nerves,  in  the  natural  conditions 
of  life,  when  animals  become  greatly  excited,  as  in  fear 
and  rage  and  pain.  There  is  every  probability,  there- 
fore, that  these  glands  are  stimulated  to  extra  secretion 
at  such  times.  Both  by  an  exceedingly  delicate  biological 
test  (intestinal  muscle)  and  by  an  examination  of  the 
glands  themselves,  clear  evidence  has  been  secured  that 
in  pain  and  deep  emotion  the  glands  do,  in  fact,  pour 
out  an  excess  of  adrenin  into  the  circulating  blood. 

"Here,  then,  is  a  remarkable  group  of  phenomena — a 
pair  of  glands  stimulated  to  activity  in  times  of  strong 
excitement  and  by  such  nerve  impulses  as  themselves 
produce,  produce  at  such  times  profound  changes  in  the 
viscera;  and  a  secretion  given  forth  into  the  blood  stream 
by  these  glands,  which  is  capable  of  inducing  by  itself, 
or  of  augmenting,  the  nervous  influences  which  induce 
the  very  changes  in  the  viscera  which  accompany  suffer- 
ing and  the  major  emotions." 

Cannon  has  shown  that  a  stimulation  of  the  adrenal 
gland  produces  all  the  phenomena  of  anger  and  rage, 
and  conversely  that  production  of  anger  or  rage  by  any 
other  method  effects  the  secretions  of  the  adrenal  glands ; 
and  we  know  that  the  phenomena  above  enumerated  are 
controlled  by  the  sympathetic  system. 

Cannon  worked  with  adrenin,  the  secretion  of  the 
adrenal  gland.  This  is  one  of  the  glands  of  internal 
secretion.  There  are  a  number  of  other  such  glands — 
the  thyroid,  thymus,  pineal,  pituitary,  parathyroid,  ca- 
rotid and  coccygeal,  areas  of  Langerhaus  of  the  pancreas, 
interstitial  cells  of  the  testicle  and  corpora  lutea  of  the 
ovary. 

There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  some,  if  not  all,  of 

[134] 


THE  FEELINGS 

these  other  glands  may  have  similar  relations  to  emo- 
tion. 

It  is  clear  from  the  foregoing  quotation  that  we  have 
in  the  sympathetic  system  a  -nervous  mechanism  little 
if  any  inferior  to  the  cerebrospinal,  and  fully  capable  of 
producing  all  the  phenomena  of  the  affective  life. 

We  are  now  ready  to  complete  our  working  plan  of 
emotional  activity.  Every  stimulus  to  a  sensory  neuron 
arouses  nerve  energy  which  runs  into  the  nerve  pattern 
as  already  described.  But  a  part  of  this  energy  passes 
over  the  rami  communicantes  into  the  sympathetic  sys- 
tem. The  sympathetic  system,  thus  set  into  activity, 
influences  more  or  less  strongly  the  glands  of  internal 
secretion  and  other  organs.  The  activities  thus  aroused 
result  in  various  modifications  of  function  which  are  for 
the  benefit  of  the  individual.  If  the  original  stimulus 
is  of  a  character  to  be  injurious,  one  type  of  activity 
(special  set  of  glands  e.g.)  results;  if  beneficial,  another 
type  of  response  occurs;  but  always  with  a  tendency 
toward  the  final  welfare  of  the  organism.  These  activi- 
ties are  reported  back  to  the  central  nervous  system  ac- 
companied by  more  or  less  of  consciousness. 

We  may  readily  assume  that  there  is  always  a  mini- 
mum of  consciousness  which  ordinarily  does  not  come 
strongly  to  the  surface,  that  is,  arouse  attention,  because 
it  is  usually  followed  by  some  more  direct  effect  on  the 
cortical  neuron  pattern  aroused  by  the  original  stimulus. 
A  mild  feeling  of  satisfaction  or  comfort  is  the  common 
result  of  ordinary  activity;  nevertheless,  it  may  at  any 
time  come  into  the  focus  of  consciousness,  in  which  case 
we  speak  of  the  feeling  accompanying  the  situation.  For 
example,  the  sight  of  food  to  a  hungry  man  may,  so  far  as 
consciousness  is  concerned,  lead  only  to  his  active  move- 

[135] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ment  to  secure  such  food;  but  it  may  also  give  him  a 
very  distinct  feeling  of  pleasure.  The  stimulation  of 
the  auditory  nerve  by  an  unusual  sound  may  lead  exclu- 
sively, so  far  as  consciousness  is  concerned,  to  movements 
calculated  to  discover  the  origin  of  the  sound.  But  it 
may  also  lead  to  a  very  distinct  feeling  of  fear  or,  if  it 
is  recognized  as  a  sound  associated  with  some  pleasing 
object,  the  feeling  may  be  one  of  pleasure. 

All  such  experiences  of  satisfaction,  mild  pleasure,  and 
on  the  other  hand  moderate  anxiety,  worry  and  fear, 
constitute  what  are  usually  called  the  feelings  and  must 
be  thought  of,  as  already  stated,  as  resulting  from  a 
moderate  inflow  of  energy  from  the  sympathetic  system 
which  in  turn  resulted  from  a  moderate  overflow  into  that 
system  from  the  neuron  pattern  aroused  by  the  original 
stimulus.  One  of  the  feelings  that  has  received  a  definite 
name,  and  consequently  will  serve  us  as  a  further  illustra- 
tion of  this  mild  degree  of  the  affective  consciousness,  is 
interest. 

What  we  call  interest  is  only  the  feeling  accompany- 
ing an  ordinary  state  of  attention.  It  is  a  contribution 
of  the  sympathetic  system  to  the  work  of  the  cerebro- 
spinal  system.  As  we  have  said,  every  state  of  con- 
sciousness has  this  feeling  side.  The  old  question  for- 
merly so  learnedly  discussed  at  Teachers'  Institutes  as  to 
which  is  first,  attention  or  interest;  whether  the  teacher 
should  strive  to  interest  her  pupils  and  thereby  make 
them  attentive  or  whether  she 'should  vigorously  require 
attention,  and  they  would  thus  become  interested,  has 
long  since  been  shown  to  be  one  of  those  fanciful  prob- 
lems born  of  ignorance. 

Attention  and  interest  are  but  two  phases  of  the  same 
mental  experience.  One  does  not  exist  without  the 

[136] 


INTEREST  AND  ATTENTION 

other.  Sometimes  one  is  a  little  more  in  evidence  than 
the  other  and  then  we  are  apt  to  describe  the  state  of 
consciousness  in  terms  of  that  phase  which  is  more 
prominent.  If  the  feeling  side  is  predominant  we  de- 
scribe a  particular  experience  as  interesting,  if  on  the 
other  hand  the  attention  is  the  stronger  phase,  as  evi- 
denced by  the  bodily  expressions  of  attention,  the  feeling 
of  effort  as  we  try  to  keep  the  matter  in  consciousness, 
then  we  describe  the  experience  as  one  to  which  we  give 
our  best  attention. 

We  also  apply  these  terms  when  we  observe  the  con- 
duct of  another.  Interest  is  a  pleasant  feeling  and  is 
shown  in  certain  facial  expressions  which  always  ac- 
company pleasant  emotions.  Therefore,  if  we  see  these 
expressions  of  countenance,  we  are  apt  to  say  the  per- 
son is  interested.  On  the  other  hand  the  attentive  state 
of  consciousness  manifests  itself  in  certain  muscular 
strains  and  bodily  attitudes,  which,  being  just  as  easily 
recognized  as  the  other,  enable  us  to  say  that  the  per- 
son paid  strict  attention.  From  a  practical  standpoint 
it  makes  little  difference  which  phase  we  observe  since  we 
know  whichever  one  is  observed  the  other  is  present. 

When  the  original  stimulus  is  a  very  violent  one,  or, 
because  of  inherited  tendencies  or  acquired  experiences, 
arouses  a  very  elaborate  neuron  pattern  in  the  central 
system,  a  vastly  greater  flow  of  energy  into  the  sym- 
pathetic takes  place,  resulting  in  rather  serious  disturb- 
ance of  the  organs  and  glands  controlled  by  that  system. 
For  instance,  when  the  adrenal  gland  is  affected  and  its 
secretion  is  poured  into  the  blood,  we  get  decided  and  un- 
usual activities  of  the  heart,  the  liver  and  other  organs, 
which  violent  activity  is  again  transmitted  over  the  other 
ramus  into  the  central  system  with  an  accompanying  in- 

[137] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

tense  consciousness  which  we  know  as  the  emotion,  either 
of  fear  which  may  amount  to  terror,  or  of  anger  which 
may  rise  to  the  height  of  rage.  It  can  be  shown,  as 
Cannon  has  done,  that  all  this  is  for  the  benefit  of  the 
individual.  The  fear  leads  him  to  run  away,  the  rage 
impels  him  to  fight;  either  movement  calls  for  an  un- 
usual amount  of  energy  on  his  part.  The  effect  of  the 
adrenal  secretion  has  been  to  quickly  deposit  energy, 
in  the  form  of  sugar,  in  the  blood  for  the  use  of  the 
various  muscles  and  organs  involved;  for  the  control  of 
the  products  of  fatigue;  and  for  the  rapid  coagulation 
of  the  blood  which  may  easily  be  caused  to  flow  as  the 
result  of  the  combat  that  the  anger  may  lead  to,  especially 
in  primitive  man  and  animals. 

If  this  hypothetical  picture  is  even  roughly  correct 
it  at  once  becomes  clear  that  the  James-Lange  theory 
of  emotions  is  true  so  far  as  it  goes,  but  that  it  is  only 
part  of  the  story  because  it  confines  itself  to  the  central 
nervous  system  and  does  not  take  into  account  the 
enormous  part  played  by  the  sympathetic.  It  required 
a  Mosso  to  show  us  that  such  organs  as  the  bladder  do 
actually  respond  to  situations  that  give  rise  to  emotions ; 
and  then  a  Cannon  to  complete  the  picture  by  demonstrat- 
ing to  us  that  the  secretions  of  the  glands,  which  are  in- 
nervated by  the  sympathetic,  react  quickly  upon  the 
various  organs,  thus  producing  the  incoming  sensation 
which  James  and  Lange  were  the  first  to  recognize. 

It  is  convenient  to  consider  the  affective  side  of  con- 
sciousness in  two  parts  as  we  did  the  action  side.  First, 
that  which  goes  with  the  activity  of  inherited  neurons 
(including  such  acquired  patterns  as  are  formed  by 
simple  association  neurons  within  the  localized  centre,  or 
between  the  cortical  centres) ;  and,  second,  those  activi- 

[138] 


SUMMARY 

ties  resulting  from  the  participation  of  the  great  associa- 
tion areas.  Just  as  this  participation  gave  us  more  ex- 
tended attention,  memory  and  imagination,  so  it  gives  us 
more  elaborate  emotional  states.  These  will  be  consid- 
ered in  the  next  chapter. 

Summary. 

1.  The   mental   processes   discussed   in   the   previous 
chapters  belong  to  the  sensation  side  of  consciousness 
and  are  conditioned  by  the  structure  and  functioning  of 
the  cerebrospinal  nervous  system. 

2.  There  is  another  side  of  consciousness  known  as  the 
affective  side — the  feelings. 

3.  Strong   feelings    are    called    emotions    and    every 
primary  instinct  is  accompanied  by  its   characteristic 
emotion. 

4.  "The  seat  of  the  emotions  lies  in  the  sympathetic 
nervous  system." 

5.  The  glands  of  internal  secretion  are  apparently  im- 
portant factors  in  the  production  of  emotion. 

6.  When    the    affective    phase    of    consciousness    is 
pleasant,  but  falls  short  of  an  emotion  in  intensity,  it  is 
called  interest.     Since  we   speak  of  the  consciousness 
aroused  by  any  particular  stimulus,   or  group   of  as- 
sociated stimuli,  as  a  state  of  attention,  it  is  frequently 
said  that  interest  and  attention  are  two  phases  of  the 
same  consciousness. 

7.  The  extension  of  nerve  action  into  the  great  associa- 
tion areas  of  the  brain  results  in  "higher  emotions"  just 
as  we  had  second  or  higher  types  of  memory,  associa- 
tion, imagination,  etc. 


[139] 


CHAPTEE  VHI 
COMPLEX  EMOTIONS 

IT  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  extension  of  the 
association  process,  by  the  involvement  of  the  large  as- 
sociation areas  of  the  brain,  that  experience  should  bring 
about  extensive  association  between  the  instincts. 
Whereas  each  instinct  taken  by  itself  is  accompanied  by 
its  specific  affective  quality,  that  is  its  own  emotion,  when 
two  or  more  instincts  are  aroused  at  the  same  time  there 
will  naturally  result  a  much  more  complicated  emotional 
state. 

Since  Des  Cartes,  emotions  have  been  divided  into 
primary  emotions,  those  accompanying  the  primary  in- 
stincts, and  complex  emotions.  The  accompanying 
diagram,  Fig.  42,  prepared  by  the  writer  from  Mc- 
Dougall's  (34)  description  of  instinct  and  emotion,  shows 
in  graphic  form  his  scheme.  Within  the  rectangles  we 
have  in  the  upper  line  the  primary  instinct  and  in  the 
lower  line  the  corresponding  emotion.  Below  this,  at 
the  point  of  convergence  of  the  various  oblique  lines  we 
have  the  complex  emotions.  For  example,  when  the  in- 
stinct of  flight  is  associated  with  the  instinct  of  repul- 
sion we  have  the  emotion  of  fear  combined  with  that  of 
disgust,  which  results  in  the  emotion  of  loathing.  When 
to  this  is  added  the  instinct  of  curiosity  with  its  feeling 
of  wonder  we  get  fascination.  Eepulsion  with  pugnacity 
gives  scorn.  Curiosity  with  self-abasement  gives  ad- 
miration. Add  to  this  the  instinct  of  flight  and  we  get 
awe.  The  parental  instinct  combined  with  self-abase- 

[140] 


COMPLEX  EMOTIONS 

ment  gives  gratitude  and  when  this  is  added  to  that  which 
gives  awe  we  have  reverence;  similarly  with  the  other 
combinations  indicated. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  it  seems  possible  to  analyse 
these  higher  emotions  into  their  elements  by  process  of 
introspection.  For  instance,  it  seems  that  one  can  per- 
ceive that  reverence  is  a  combination  of  awe  and  grati- 
tude, and  gratitude  a  combination  of  the  feeling  of  sub- 
jection and  the  tender  emotion,  and  so  on.  It  would, 
however,  seem  very  doubtful  whether  psychologically  we 
ought  to  say  that  reverence  is  a  combination  of  awe  and 
gratitude,  and  not  rather  that  it  is  a  complex  emotion  re- 
sulting from  an  intricate  association  between  the  parental 
instinct,  self-abasement,  flight  and  curiosity. 

There  is  little  agreement  among  psychologists  as  to 
what  should  be  considered  the  fundamental  instincts  or 
what  should  be  included  in  the  list  of  emotions.  But 
we  may  accept  provisionally  this  scheme  of  McDougall's 
and  leave  it  for  future  investigation  to  revise  by  exten- 
sion or  reduction. 

That  these  complex  emotions  are  the  result  of  exten- 
sive associations  between  the  primary  centres  is  sug- 
gested if  not  proved  by  certain  facts ;  such  as  the  notice- 
able decrease  of  these  emotions  as  we  get  into  lower 
forms  where  the  association  centres  are  developed  little 
or  not  at  all.  Those  primary  instincts  which  are  most 
naturally  brot  together  by  the  environment  have  de- 
veloped complex  emotions  farther  down  the  series  than 
have  those  instincts  less  often  brot  together.  For 
example,  flight  and  curiosity  are  very  often  aroused  at 
the  same  time  even  in  animals,  with  the  result  that  fascin- 
ation is  quite  common  among  them  and  in  children. 
From  this  it  may  be  concluded  that  there  is  an  inherited 

[141] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

neuron  pattern  bringing  together  the  neurons  involved 
in  these  instincts. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  one  would  ascribe  reverence  to 
any  animal  or  even  to  young  children.  The  reason  is 
clear.  The  four  instincts  involved  do  not  often  come  to- 
gether in  animal  or  child  experience.  It  may  be  a  ques- 
tion whether  loathing,  scorn  or  admiration  can  be  at- 
tributed to  animals.  Of  the  three  it  may  be  that  ad- 
miration develops  earlier  in  the  child  than  the  other 
two.  Contempt  would  seem  to  have  a  very  late  develop- 
ment in  childhood  and  is  probably  absent  from  animals. 
Likewise  reproach,  altho  certain  animals,  for  example, 
the  dog,  do  have  attitudes  and  expressions  of  eyes  that 
we  are  inclined  to  say  indicate  reproach. 

Speaking  in  the  same  broad  and  general  way  that  we 
have  done  before,  we  may  say  that  the  simple  primary 
emotions  are  characteristic  of  animals  and  undeveloped 
humans,  while  the  complex  emotions  are  characteristic 
of  mature  or  fully  developed  human  beings.  From  our 
neurological  point  of  view  this  would  mean  that  beings 
without  well  developed  cortical  association  areas  cannot 
have  the  complex  emotions. 

We  have  still  to  consider  a  plausible  tho  hypothetical 
picture  of  the  nerve  action  underlying  the  complex  emo- 
tions. If  the  situation  which  arouses  the  instinct  of 
flight  starts  a  neuron  pattern  from  which  a  certain 
amount  of  energy  overflows  into  the  sympathetic  system 
and  there  liberates  more  nervous  energy  or  causes  cer- 
tain glands  to  secrete,  and  these  secretions  further  stimu- 
late other  glands  and  smooth  muscle,  and  this  augmented 
energy  then  flows  back  into  the  muscles  and  shows  it- 
self in  consciousness  as  the  emotion  of  fear  or  terror; 
and  if  at  the  same  time  a  situation  arouses  the  instinct 

[142] 


0)  C  «J  3 

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0)    I--, 


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MM  O  TH 
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NEUROLOGY  OF  EMOTIONS 

of  repulsion  which  in  a  similar  manner  causes  an  over- 
flow to  and  from  the  sympathetic  system,  resulting  in  the 
emotion  of  disgust,  it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  that 
when  both  of  these  instincts  are  aroused  at  once,  the 
sympathetic  system  would  be  either  more  strongly 
aroused  or  at  least  very  differently  aroused;  and  as  a 
consequence  the  muscular  system  would  be  differently 
affected  and  also  there  would  be  a  different  quality  of 
consciousness,  a  new  emotion. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  presence  at  the  same  time 
of  the  specific  stimuli  for  the  two  instincts  may  lead 
to  an  interference,  a  blocking,  which  may  result  in  an 
extension  of  the  neuron  patterns  into  the  large  associa- 
tion areas.  This  of  itself  would  lead  to  an  increase  of 
nerve  energy  which  we  might  expect  would  overflow  into 
the  sympathetic  system  with  results  already  described. 

At  first  sight  it  seems  a  little  difficult  to  explain  why 
the  complex  emotion  would  not  always  be  much  more 
violent  than  the  simple  emotion.  For,  given  the  exten- 
sive association  between  two  fundamental  instincts  re- 
sulting in  a  very  much  enlarged  and  complicated  neuron 
pattern  in  the  brain,  we  might  expect  a  greater  overflow 
into  the  sympathetic  system  with  consequent  greater 
disturbance  there  and  greater  returns  and  greater  mus- 
cular activity  and  consciousness.  For  all  we  know  this 
may  be  literally  true  and  while  we  cannot  say  that  loath- 
ing, for  example,  is  always  a  stronger  emotion  than  dis- 
gust or  fear,  it  may  be  true  that  a  situation  that  would 
arouse  a  certain  degree  of  fear,  combined  with  a  situa- 
tion that  would  arouse  a  certain  degree  of  disgust,  would 
when  combined  arouse  a  degree  of  loathing  that  would 
be  vastly  greater  than  either  the  fear  or  the  disgust. 

In  other  words,  our  feeling  that  the  emotion  of  loath- 

[143] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ing  is  not  necessarily  more  intense  than  the  emotion  of 
disgust  may  be  the  result  of  comparing  two  very  differ- 
ent situations.  The  case  where  the  disgust  is  stronger 
than  the  loathing  may  be  the  result  of  a  situation  where 
the  stimulus  is  enormous,  while  the  loathing  may  result 
from  a  situation  where  the  stimuli  to  the  instincts  of 
repulsion  and  flight  are  very  mild;  similarly,  of  course, 
for  the  other  emotions. 

But  this  is  not  all ;  we  may  properly  assume  that  there 
are  certain  compensations  or  neutralizing  effects.  To 
take  a  gross  illustration,  one  instinct  or  its  emotion  may 
cause  a  certain  gland  to  secrete,  the  secretion  of  which 
gland  would  result  in  a  tremendous  activity  of  the 
sympathetic  system;  but  the  other  emotion  acting  at  the 
same  time  may  cause  the  secretion  from  some  other  gland 
to  flow  and  the  effect  might  be  to  actually  neutralize  the 
first,  or  perhaps  to  form  in  the  blood  a  new  compound 
whose  action  is  quite  different  from  that  of  either  of  the 
originals.  That  there  is  antagonism  between  different 
parts  of  the  sympathetic  (autonomic)  system  has  been 
shown  by  Cannon.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that  there  are 
almost  infinite  possibilities. 

In  brief,  then,  we  see  that  the  higher  or  complex  emo- 
tions are  dependent  upon  the  development  of  the  great 
association  areas  for  the  mechanism  necessary  to  bring 
together  the  separate  experiences,  which  but  for  such  con- 
nection would  produce  only  a  series  of  simple  emotions. 
Moreover,  the  entire  affective  phase  of  mind  is  depend- 
ent upon  the  sympathetic  nervous  system  for  that  par- 
ticular quality  which  characterizes  feeling.  It  is  of  in- 
terest to  note  that  the  relative  independence  of  the 
sympathetic  nervous  system  from  the  cerebrospinal 
nervous  system  parallels  the  common  result  of  introspec- 

[144] 


EMOTIONS  IN  THE  FEEBLE 

tion  that  feelings  and  emotions  are  somehow  distinct 
from  the  other  phases  of  mind. 

Again  it  is  the  feeble-minded  who  have  given  us  this 
concept  and  whose  condition  is  most  clearly  explained  by 
this  view.  All  the  primary  instincts  with  their  accom- 
panying emotions  according  to  McDougall's  list,  are 
present  in  the  feeble-minded.  Many  of  these  at  first 
sight  seem  to  be  over-developed,  but  that  is  probably  in 
appearance  only,  the  appearance  being  due  to  the  lack 
of  control. 

Flight  with  its  emotion  of  fear  is  found  well  down  the 
scale,  possibly  even  to  the  lowest. 

Repulsion  with  its  emotion  of  disgust  is  clearly  present 
in  all  but  the  lowest  grade.  Here  it  would  seem  to  be 
absent,  especially  in  that  function  from  which  the  emotion 
takes  its  name,  namely  the  gustatory  sense,  since  idiots 
are  known  to  eat  most  disgusting  things. 

Curiosity  (wonder)  is  also  noticeably  less  as  we  go 
down  the  scale.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  that  even  the 
morons  are  possessed  of  less  of  this  instinct  than  the 
normal  child. 

Pugnacity  and  anger  are  in  evidence  in  all  grades. 

Self-abasement  tho  present  is  not  so  manifest  as  some 
of  the  others. 

Self-assertion  on  the  other  hand  is  prominent,  indeed 
it  is  so  well  developed  in  the  defectives  that  it  is  one  of 
the  most  useful  instincts  in  connection  with  their  train- 
ing. They  can  be  induced  to  do  a  great  many  things  that 
they  would  not  otherwise  undertake  by  the  knowledge 
that  they  will  have  an  opportunity  to  "show  off,"  to  as- 
sert themselves. 

The  parental  instinct  with  its  tender  emotion  is  clearly 
developed  in  the  chronologically  older  cases,  and  extends 

[145] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

fairly  well  down  the  mental  scale.  Morons,  both  boys 
and  girls,  delight  to  take  care  of  the  younger  children 
and  then  manifest  toward  them  what  seems  to  be  real 
parental  feeling.  It  is  evident  that  this  instinct,  like 
some  of  the  others,  cannot  be  manifested  by  the  lowest 
grade,  even  tho  it  may  be  present  in  rudimentary  form. 

Sympathy,  or  what  McDougall  calls  sympathetic  pain 
is  also  manifest  in  the  higher  grades. 

A  question  arises  as  to  why  these  different  instincts, 
if  they  are  primary,  which,  according  to  McDougall, 
means  that  they  are  present  in  animals  as  well  as  in 
humans,  should  not  be  all  equally  manifest  in  even  the 
low  grade  feeble-minded.  It  is  quite  possible  that  they 
are  present,  indeed  if  one  reasons  a  priori  one  must  con- 
clude that  they  are  present  just  as  in  normal  children. 
But  they  are  not  so  much  in  evidence,  because  in  the 
first  place  the  specific  stimulus  for  each  emotion  is 
not  so  often  applied  to  defectives;  and  our  understand- 
ing of  these  instincts  in  normal  people  is  largely  in- 
fluenced by  our  observation  of  their  instinctive  reactions, 
not  to  the  original,  the  specific  stimulus,  but  to  associated 
stimuli. 

McDougall  shows  that  in  normal  people  these  instincts 
are  modified  in  various  ways.  The  instincts,  according 
to  him,  are  normally  modified  on  the  afferent  or  receptive 
side,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  kind  of  stimulus  that  can  arouse 
the  instinct.  One  method  is  by  '  *  specialization. ' '  For  in- 
stance, primitively  any  loud  noise  will  excite  the  emotion 
of  fear,  but  with  experience  one  learns  that  some  loud 
noises  are  not  causes  for  fear.  There  is  also  the  opposite 
process  of  an  extension  of  stimuli  by  association.  If  the 
specific  stimulus  for  the  instinct  is  constantly  associated 
with  some  other  stimulus,  it  will  not  be  long  until  the 

[146] 


MODIFICATION  OF  INSTINCTS 

second  stimulus  starts  the  instinct  just  as  the  original 
one  did.  This  is  the  so  called  conditioned  reflex  and 
Mateer  (37)  has  shown  that  it  can  be  developed  even  in 
the  lowest  idiots. 

Moreover,  this  association  between  the  specific 
stimulus  and  some  associated  stimulus  may  be  by  con- 
tiguity and  also  by  similarity  with  the  same  differences 
that  we  have  noted  in  other  connections ;  contiguity  being 
much  more  common  and  direct,  but  similarity  having  a 
wider  range. 

Now  it  is  evident  in  the  first  place  that  the  feeble- 
minded will  not  modify  their  instincts  as  will  normal 
people ;  and  secondly,  and  what  is  more  important,  there 
will  be  a  great  difference  in  the  extent  to  which  the 
different  instincts  are  modified.  The  instinct  for  flight, 
the  emotion  of  fear,  will  be  slightly  modified,  because  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  case  the  yielding  to  the  impulse 
to  run  away  from  the  stimulus  takes  away  the  oppor- 
tunity of  discovering  that  the  stimulus  is  not  properly 
fearful.  The  defective  will  not  use  association  by  simi- 
larity here  any  more  than  elsewhere,  and  association  by 
contiguity  in  the  way  of  substituting  new  stimuli  as 
arousers  of  the  instinct  would  be  practically  the  only  way 
in  which  it  would  be  modified  and  we  may  imagine  that 
the  effect  of  this  would  be  slight. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  we  find  that  the  feebleminded  show 
about  a  normal  amount  of  fear  until  we  get  up  to  those 
things  that  depend  upon  intelligence.  The  feeble-minded 
do  not  fear  microbes  and  germs  because  they  have  not 
enough  intelligence  to  understand  them.  They  do  fear 
loud  noises  and  bright  lights  and  grotesque  appearances 
and  strangers.  Idiots  and  imbeciles  do  not  fear  the 
lower  forms  of  animal  life,  except  when  they  are  in  active 

[147] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

motion.  The  morons  have  evidently  learned  these  fears 
from  more  intelligent  people.  For  example,  low  grade 
imbeciles  and  idiots  have  no  fear  of  snakes.  From  this 
it  is  evident  that  the  so-called  instinctive  fear  of  snakes 
is  not  instinctive  but  acquired. 

Disgust  is  primitively  the  emotion  that  accompanies 
the  repulsion  of  something  that  does  not  taste  right,  but 
the  term  has  come  to  have  a  figurative  use.  We  speak 
of  certain  kinds  of  conduct  as  being  disgusting  or  even 
of  disgusting  ideas.  Expression  of  disgust  in  this  sense 
is  of  course  not  to  be  thot  of  with  idiots  or  imbeciles  and 
only  slightly  with  morons.  Low  grade  defectives,  being 
somewhat  deficient  in  the  sense  of  taste,  do  not  display 
the  repulsion  even  for  those  things  that  the  adult  finds 
disgusting  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  term.  Moreover, 
this  instinct  is  enormously  extended  in  normal  people 
thru  association  by  similarity. 

Still  confining  ourselves  to  the  original  meaning,  re- 
lating to  food,  the  extent  to  which  a  thing  may  become 
disgusting  because  it  looks  similar  to  something  that  is 
known  to  be  distasteful  is  well  recognized.  Contiguity 
also  plays  a  part  with  normal  people,  which  it  undoubt- 
edly does  not  do  with  defectives.  For  instance,  if  com- 
pelled to  eat  in  a  filthy  place,  or  if  while  eating  in  a 
comfortable  place,  some  disagreeable  scene  has  tran- 
spired, it  is  quite  likely  that  one  will  not  be  able  to  eat 
the  same  things  even  under  favourable  conditions.  The 
emotion  of  disgust  is  aroused  by  associations  with  the 
previous  experience. 

Curiosity  is  another  instinct  that  is  greatly  elaborated 
in  normal  people  thru  association  by  similarity.  Conse- 
quently we  would  expect  it  to  be,  as  we  find  it,  much  less 
manifest  in  defectives. 

[148] 


MODIFICATION  OF  INSTINCTS 

Pugnacity  on  the  other  hand,  or  the  emotion  of  anger, 
is  one  of  the  few  emotions  that  remains  fairly  constant. 
It  is  mainly  aroused  by  its  specific  stimulus.  As  a  result 
this  instinct  appears  normally  developed  in  defectives. 

In  self-abasement  we  have  another  instinct  that  is 
largely  modified  and  in  a  normal  person  many  stimuli 
not  naturally  specific  for  self-abasement  come  to  produce 
the  instinct.  With  the  feeble-minded  this  is  not  the  case, 
consequently  self-abasement  is  less  often  in  evidence. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  instinct  for  self-assertion  is  in  the 
normal  person  modified  in  the  direction  of  suppression. 
The  child  is  early  taught  modesty,  and  the  stimuli  that 
would  naturally  arouse  this  instinct  are  turned  into  other 
channels  so  that  these  self-assertions  are  not  so  promi- 
nent. With  the  feeble-minded,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
already  said,  this  is  used  as  an  exceedingly  useful  in- 
stinct in  their  training,  development  and  discipline. 

McDougall  (34)  also  points  out  that  instincts  are 
normally  modified  on  the  conative  side,  that  is  to  say,  in 
the  form  of  the  action  as  the  expression  of  the  instinct. 
Here  again  there  is  a  marked  difference  between  the 
normal  and  the  defective.  The  normal  person  early 
learns  to  control  some  instincts  and  to  extend  others. 
He  acts  upon  the  one,  but  fails  to  act  upon  the  other  be- 
cause the  consequences  are  unpleasant.  The  feeble- 
minded because  of  their  weak  association  processes  are 
much  less  liable  to  learn  these  methods  of  control. 

Another  influence  to  be  considered  is  the  conflict  of 
emotion.  A  casual  glance  shows  that  some  of  these  emo- 
tions are  contradictory  to  others  and  if  the  stimuli  for 
two  opposite  emotions  should  come  at  the  same  time, 
there  would  at  once  be  a  conflict.  But  the  possibility 
for  this  conflict  depends  upon  there  being  a  reasonably 

[149] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

strong  association  between  the  two.  If  there  is  no  such 
association,  the  one  instinct  is  acted  upon  and  the  other 
dies  out.  We  can  see  therefore  why  it  is  that  these  con- 
flicts occur  more  in  normal  people  than  in  defectives, 
since  the  latter  do  not  have  the  necessary  association 
neurons.  For  instance,  a  normal  child  quickly  learns  to 
control  his  fear  because  of  his  pride.  Fear  and  curiosity 
or  wonder  are  also  somewhat  antagonistic.  In  the  case 
of  the  normal'  child  his  whole  effort  is  to  control  fear  and 
to  extend  curiosity. 

We  said  in  the  previous  chapter  that  a  strong  stimulus, 
or  one  that  aroused  an  inherent  pattern  or  an  elaborate 
acquired  pattern,  would  cause  a  heavy  overflow  into  the 
sympathetic  system  with  a  resulting  violent  emotion.  It 
is  a  familiar  fact  that  violent  emotion  is  often  aroused 
by  an  extremely  insignificant  stimulus.  A  single  word 
innocently  uttered  may  call  forth  intense  rage  or  pro- 
found fear.  A  sound  that  would  pass  unnoticed  by  most 
persons  may  in  one  with  the  right  experience  produce  all 
the  outward  manifestations  of  terror;  likewise  a  visual 
stimulus  or  an  odour,  or  in  fact,  almost  any  stimulus 
whatever.  The  western  cowboy  jumped  to  his  saddle  and 
rode  for  his  life  upon  the  perception  of  a  certain  sound 
which  was  utterly  ignored  by  the  inexperienced.  He  had 
heard  the  ominous  sound  which  to  him  meant  a  prairie 
fire.  On  one  occasion  the  writer  was  sitting  comfortably 
before  an  open  fire  in  a  hotel  in  the  Canadian  Rockies, 
chatting  pleasantly  with  his  Swiss  guide.  He  mentioned 
the  fact  that  he  had  climbed  the  Jungfrau  just  ten  days 
after  a  notorious  accident  in  which  several  tourists 
and  guides  had  been  killed.  Instantly  the  guide 
turned  pale  and  showed  all  the  outward  signs  of  intense 
pain  and  fear.  As  soon  as  he  could  get  his  voice  he  told 

[150] 


AVALANCHE  CONDUCTION 


us  that  he  was  one  of  the  two  guides  who  had  been  in 
that  catastrophe  and  had  escaped. 

In  both  these  instances  elaborate  neuron  patterns  had 
been  built  up  by  experience.  The  sound  or  the  word 
was  enough  to  start  into  activity  this  pattern  with  all 
its  multitude  of  associatons.  From  numerous  neurons, 
energy  passed  over  into  the  sympathetic  system  arousing 
that  to  strong  activity,  causing  glandular  secretions,  the 
effect  of  which  was  to  produce  the  recognized  physical  ef- 
fect of  the  emotion. 

How  this  is  brot  about  in 
the  neuron  system  may  be 
better  understood  by  refer- 
ence to  what  Cajal  (23,  p. 
101)  has  called  "Avalanche 
Conduction."  The  accom- 
panying diagram,  Fig.  43, 
will  make  this  clear.  The 
neuron  patterns  involved 
in  these  cases  have  been 
built  up  by  experience. 
Consequently  a  person 
without  such  an  experience 

Cannot  have  this  Conscious-  impulses  into  a  single  final  path. 

.,  ,.  The  final  path  might  be  a  ramus 

neSS  Or  tne  emotion.  communicans    conveying    the    neuro- 

The    well    known    apathy  kyme  to  the  sympathetic  system 

*         J  From  Hemck. 

of  undeveloped  or  diseased 

mind  is  probably  to  be  explained  by  the  foregoing  prin- 
ciple. A  situation,  a  conversation  or  a  word  that  regu- 
larly arouses  strong  emotion  in  an  experienced  adult, 
arouses  none  in  the  defective  because  he  has  no  elaborate 
neuron  pattern  to  be  aroused,  and  consequently  no  great 
overflow  into  the  sympathetic  system.  One  of  the 
children  of  a  certain  institution,  who  is  probably  more 

[151] 


Fig.  43.  Diagram  of  the  mechan- 
ism of  reinforcement  whereby  a  sin- 
gle weak  afferent  nervous  impulse 
may  be  received  by  several  neurons  of 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

a  case  of  mild  insanity  than  of  arrested  development, 
recently  said  to  the  writer,  "I  am  very  unhappy,  I  am 
homesick,  I  am  very  miserable  all  the  time. ' '  Evidently 
from  his  words  he  was  very  sincere,  but  thruout  the  whole 
expression  he  had  a  pleasant  smile  on  his  countenance 
and  a  quiet  natural  tone  of  voice.  He  was  only  using 
language  that  he  had  heard.  There  were  no  elaborate 
neuron  patterns  underlying  it  and  consequently  no  emo- 
tions. 

Juries  and  judges  are  often  nonplussed  by  the  lack  of 
emotion  in  certain  criminals  brot  before  them  who  have 
confessed  their  guilt  but  who  can  talk  about  the  circum- 
stances as  nonchalantly  as  one  speaks  about  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  the  day.  Two  murderers,  studied  by  the  writer 
(20a)  each  displayed  this  condition  to  a  remarkable  de- 
gree. Even  the  photographs  of  these  criminals  taken 
in  prison  show  a  smile  on  each  of  their  faces.  Such  a 
state  of  mind  amazes  the  inexperienced  observer  and  he 
says,  "What  a  hardened  criminal.  How  can  he  be  so 
heartless,  and  have  so  little  feeling?"  The  explanation 
is  entirely  simple.  These  murderers  are  both  feeble- 
minded and  as  such  have  very  incomplete  neuron  pat- 
terns. The  circumstances  as  they  are  narrated  do  not 
arouse  any  great  activity ;  there  is  therefore  none  of  that 
disturbance  of  the  sympathetic  system  which  results  in 
strong  emotion.  They  can  therefore  contemplate  any 
phase  of  the  subject  without  any  feeling  that  expresses 
itself  in  the  bodily  symptoms  of  emotion  or  even  in  their 
own  consciousness.  While  the  second  murderer  re- 
ferred to  above  was  in  prison  and  after  he  had  confessed 
his  crime  he  was,  as  the  jailer  remarked,  more  concerned 
as  to  how  he  should  collect  sixty  cents  that  somebody 
owed  him  than  he  was  about  his  own  punishment  or 

[152] 


THE  EMOTIONS  OF  DEFECTIVES 

anything  connected  with  the  crime.  Similarly  of  the 
other  boy  we  have  recorded  (20a,  p.  31).  "Even  when 
the  experts  introduced  by  his  own  counsel  were  examin- 
ing him,  and  when,  had  he  been  intelligent  he  should 
have  known  that  it  was  to  his  advantage  to  make  the 
best  possible  appearance,  to  give  them  every  possible 
help,  yet  when  his  dinner  was  brot  into  his  cell,  he  ignored 
the  people  who  had  been  sent  to  help  him.  As  one  of 
the  experts  testified,  'As  between  soup  and  safety,  Jean 
preferred  soup.'  " 

Whenever  a  strong  emotion  is  aroused  in  these  de- 
fective persons,  it  is  either  thru  an  appeal  to  some  in- 
stinctive fear  or  anger  or  else  it  may  happen  to  be  con- 
nected with  something  in  which  the  person  has  had  some 
experience,  as  for  instance  the  case  of  the  low  grade  boy 
who  was  afraid  of  the  dentist  (p.  274). 

The  foregoing  considerations  will  make  it  clear  why 
the  manifestations  of  emotion  are  different  in  the  feeble- 
minded than  in  the  normal  and  conversely,  why  an  un- 
usual display  of  certain  emotions  indicates  a  lack  of  modi- 
fication which,  under  such  conditions,  may  be  of  itself 
indicative  of  mental  defect. 

When  we  come  to  consider  the  complex  emotions,  we 
must  expect,  from  what  has  been  said  about  the  origin 
of  these  emotions,  that  the  feeble-minded  will  be  sig- 
nificantly lacking.  Such  is  in  fact  the  case.  The  pov- 
erty of  neurons  in  the  association  areas  has  a  marked 
effect  here. 

To  begin  with  the  highest,  one  is  perhaps  not  sur- 
prised to  find  no  evidence  of  reverence  among  the  feeble- 
minded. However,  there  are  certain  concrete  situations 
that  we  might  expect  would  arouse  at  least  a  reverent 
attitude.  For  example,  one  usually  speaks  reverently  of 

[153] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  dead.  Even  this  is  lacking  in  the  feeble-minded. 
We  must  not  however  conclude  that  they  are  irreverent : 
they  are  merely  un-reverent — lacking  reverence.  George 
is  forty  years  old,  mentally  6,  his  closest  friend  had 
just  died  and  after  the  funeral  George  remarked  with  a 
chuckle,  "Well,  I  want  to  go  home  but  I  don't  want  to  go 
that  way. ' ' 

Willie,  aged  forty,  mentally  6  said  the  day  after  a 
funeral,  "We  buried  John  yesterday,"  in  much  the  same 
tone  that  he  would  have  said,  "Yesterday  we  ploughed 
that  field." 

Lil  is  a  feeble-minded  woman  thirty-five  years  old, 
mentality  10,  with  a  large  family.  A  visitor  asked, 
"Have  you  lost 'any  children?"  Lil  replied,  "Yes,  lost 
three  in  two  weeks.  That's  going  some,  ain't  it?"  The 
reply  well  expresses  the  extent  of  the  emotion  produced 
by  the  death  of  three  children. 

Another  feeble-minded  woman,  whose  husband  had 
been  killed  in  a  drunken  brawl,  was  asked  how  much 
money  she  got  for  it.  When  she  said  she  got  nothing,  a 
neighbour,  also  feeble-minded,  remarked  in  all  serious- 
ness, "What's  the  use  of  having  your  husband  killed  if 
you  don't  get  no  money  for  him?" 

Awe  seems  quite  as  lacking  as  reverence. 

Reproach,  tho  a  relatively  simple  compound  of  pug- 
nacity and  the  parental  instinct,  is  hardly  found,  prob- 
ably because  the  tender  emotion  neutralizes  the  anger,  as 
it  obviously  does  in  many  fond  parents  who  are  never 
angry  at  anything  their  children  do — "they  love  them 
so."  John,  forty-three  years  old,  mentally  7,  has 
"adopted"  two  of  the  small  helpless  children.  He 
dresses  and  undresses  them,  feeds  them,  and  carries  them 

[154] 


THE  EMOTIONS  OF  DEFECTIVES 

about.  He  has  seldom  been  known  to  show  any  signs  of 
anger  at  either  child. 

Contempt  and  scorn  are  hard  to  differentiate  but  are 
both  in  evidence  in  some  high  grade  morons.  In  the 
imbecile  they  are  noticeably  absent. 

Patriotism  and  vengeance,  involving  as  they  do  a  per- 
manent enduring  sentiment,  can  hardly  be  expected  in 
the  feeble-minded.  Indeed  true  patriotism  as  a  mental 
state  is  probably  lacking  in  many  adults.  Many  persons 
act  patriotically  thru  imitaton,  but  that  the  feeling  is 
absent  is  often  proved  in  critical  moments.  Similarly 
vengeance  probably  requires  more  persistent  attention 
than  is  withn  the  capacity  of  the  moron. 

Resentment  on  the  other  hand  being  more  momentary 
is  more  possible  and  is  doubtless  experienced  by  some 
morons.  Just  where  the  feeling  passes  over  into  simple 
anger  is  difficult  to  say.  But  it  seems  certain  that  the 
feeling  of  resentment  is  not  experienced  by  the  imbecile. 

Of  the  remaining  emotions  of  McDougall's  list, 
fascination  is  most  in  evidence,  and  some  degree  of  it 
seems  to  be  present  farther  down  the  scale  than  any  of 
the  other  complex  emotions. 

Loathing  shares  the  weakness  of  disgust,  that  is  be- 
cause the  form  of  disgust  is  so  primitive,  the  loathing  is 
limited  and  hard  to  detect. 

Envy,  admiration  and  gratitude  likewise  are  affected 
by  the  element  of  self-abasement  which  is  difficult  to 
evaluate.  They  are,  to  a  small  degree,  doubtless  within 
the  capacity  of  the  moron  and  seem  to  be  sometimes  mani- 
fested in  the  high  grades.  The  lack  of  gratitude,  how- 
ever, is  often  remarked  in  this  type  of  person. 

Pity  is  another  emotion  that  is  so  easily  simulated  that 

[155] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

there  is  little  or  no  conclusive  evidence  for  it.  Morons 
often  express  pity  in  language,  but  this  may  be  only  re- 
peating words  that  they  have  heard  from  others. 

Thus  making  ample  allowances  for  errors  of  clinical 
observation,  it  is  reasonably  safe  to  conclude  that  the  a 
priori  argument  holds  that  because  these  complex  emo- 
tions require  the  activity  of  more  or  less  elaborate  as- 
sociation neurons,  the  feeble-minded  who  lack  these  neu- 
rons are  for  the  most  part  wanting  in  these  emotions. 
Lloyd  Morgan  (39)  says,  relative  to  the  study  of  animal 
psychology:  "In  no  case  may  we  interpret  an  action  as 
the  outcome  of  the  exercise  of  a  higher  psychical  faculty, 
if  it  can  be  interpreted  as  the  outcome  of  the  exercise  of 
one  that  stands  lower  in  the  psychological  scale." 

If  we  apply  this  dictum  to  the  study  of  the  outward 
expression  of  emotion  in  the  feeble-minded  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  we  could  credit  them  with  any  of  the  complex  emo- 
tions, since  almost  if  not  quite  all  their  affective  life 
can  be  classified  under  the  primary  emotions.  Indeed  it 
is  somewhat  startling  to  realize  how  much  of  the  emo- 
tional life  of  the  average  man  comprises  greater  or  less 
degrees  of  fear,  disgust,  wonder,  anger,  subjection,  ela- 
tion, and  tender  feeling! 

Summary 

1.  The  seven  primary  emotions  fear,  disgust,  wonder, 
anger,  subjection,  elation  and  tender  emotion,  are  com- 
bined by  means  of  the  elaborate  association  processes  into 
the  complex  emotions:  loathing,  fascination,  scorn,  ad- 
miration, envy,  reproach,  gratitude,  pity,  vengeance,  re- 
sentment, patriotism,  contempt,  awe  and  reverence. 

2.  The  primary  emotions  are  characteristic  of  animals 
and  undeveloped  humans. 

[156] 


SUMMARY 

3.  The  complex  emotions  are  dependent  upon  the  de- 
velopment of  the  great  association  areas  and  upon  the 
sympathetic  system. 

4.  Undeveloped  mind  experiences  the  complex  emo- 
tions to  only  a  slight  degree  and  some — such  as  awe  and 
reverence — not  at  all. 

5.  Normal  adults  modify  the  emotions  (1)  by  reacting 
to  new  or  different  stimuli  and  (2)  by  reacting  in  a  differ- 
ent way  from  the  primitive  one. 

6.  Defectives  modify  very  little,  hence  they  are  more 
primitive. 

7.  Experience,  thru  the  law  of  association,  builds  up 
elaborate  neuron  patterns,  so  that  a  single  word,  sound, 
sight  or  other  sensation  may  set  off  an  elaborate  mechan- 
ism and  give  rise  to  a  violent  emotion. 

8.  The  emotional  life  of  defectives  and  to  a  large 
extent  of  even  dull  normals  can  be  readily  referred  to  the 
primary  emotions. 

9.  Only  higher  intelligences  have  the  highest  emotions. 


[157] 


CHAPTER  IX 
THOT 

Do  Animals  Think?  Some  will  answer,  it  depends  upon 
the  animal.  Some  will  say,  it  depends  upon  the  defini- 
tion of  thot.  Does  the  hen  think  when  she  lays  an 
egg?  Does  the  bird  think  when  she  flies  away  at  the 
sound  of  a  gun?  Does  the  new-born  chick  think  when  it 
pecks  at  the  bright  spot?  Does  the  dog  think  when  he 
gulps  down  a  piece  of  meat  that  he  finds  ?  Does  the  man 
think  when  he  winds  his  watch  at  night?  Does  the 
amoeba  think  when  it  surrounds  a  food  particle?  Is 
there  a  thot  connected  with  the  knee-jerk?  Does  a 
bird  think  when  it  builds  its  nest?  Does  a  carpenter 
think  when  he  drives  a  nail?  Does  a  man  think  when  he 
gets  his  finger  into  a  gas  flame  and  draws  it  away  sud- 
denly? Most  of  these  questions  the  reader  has  answered 
promptly  in  the  negative.  To  some  of  them  he  has  given 
the  answer,  it  depends  upon  the  definition  of  thot. 
And  finally,  a  few  readers  will  have  answered  some  of 
the  questions  in  the  affirmative. 

Practically  every  one  agrees  that  the  lower  forms  of 
animal  life  do  not  think,  and  certainly  every  one  believes 
that  normally  developed  adult  human  beings  do  think. 
Where  between  these  two  extremes  is  the  line  to  be 
drawn? — if  it  can  be  drawn.  Thomas  Burnet  said,  "No 
man  thinks  but  he  is  conscious  that  he  thinks."  More- 
over, all  would  agree  that  there  is  no  thot  connected 
with  the  kneejerk,  or  with  other  similar  actions,  because 

[15&] 


THOT 

they  are  at  once  classified  as  reflexes.  They  take  place 
even  when  the  brain  is  severed  from  the  body;  and  by 
common  consent  the  brain  is  necessary  to  thought.  Most 
people  would  agree  also  that  the  bird  does  not  think 
when  it  flies  away  at  the  sound  of  a  loud  noise,  or  when 
it  is  building  a  nest,  because  these  are  instinctive  ac- 
tions. This  brings  us  nearer  to  our  goal,  but  we  may  go 
even  further. 

It  is  conceded,  by  psychologists  at  least,  that  a  man 
does  not  necessarily  think  when  he  winds  his  watch,  since 
it  is  well  known  that  he  may  wind  his  watch  while  think- 
ing intently  about  something  else;  and  often  when  the 
act  is  completed  he  does  not  know  what  he  has  done. 
Moreover,  a  very  common  explanation  of  why  one  does 
many  things  that  were  not  desirable  or  advantageous  is 
that  he  "did  not  think,"  which  is  undoubtedly  in  many 
instances  literally  true.  We  have  now  ruled  out  of  our 
early  concept  of  thot  all  reflex  action,  all  instinctive 
action,  and  a  good  many  other  actions,  which  we  com- 
monly explain  as  being  due  to  habit,  or  to  what  the 
psychologist  calls  automatic  action. 

These  actions  all  agree  in  at  least  the  one  point  that 
the  action  itself  takes  place  immediately  upon  the  appli- 
cation of  the  stimulus.  If  now  we  turn  to  our  nerve 
pattern  concepts  we  can  see  that  in  all  these  cases  there 
is  a  definite,  ready  prepared  neuron  pattern  and  an  un- 
interrupted flow  of  nerve  energy  from  the  first  applica- 
tion of  the  stimulus  to  the  final  muscular  activity.  We 
may  therefore  conclude,  at  least  provisionally,  that  under 
such  circumstances  of  nerve  action  there  is  no  thot. 

But  suppose  the  man  in  winding  his  watch  finds  that  he 
cannot  turn  the  stem,  or  that  it  turns  without  the  usual 
resistance  or  clicking  that  means  that  the  spring  is  being 

[159] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

wound  up;  at  once  a  definite  state  of  consciousness  is 
aroused  and  he  says,  "What  is  the  matter?"  He  is  now 
thinking.  Suppose  the  man  who  would  draw  his  hand 
away  from  the  gas  flame  finds,  before  he  gets  it  fully 
away,  that  something  impedes  his  action  and  he  can- 
not withdraw  his  hand  far  enough  to  entirely  escape  the 
flame.  He  looks  around  to  see  what  is  the  matter  and 
finds  some  other  way  of  escape.  He  has  evidently  been 
thinking.  Suppose  the  meat  which  the  dog  would  eat 
is  in  a  box  with  a  glass  cover  and  when  he  attempts 
to  grab  it  he  strikes  his  nose  against  the  glass.  If  he 
should  examine  the  situation,  discover  that  the  glass 
cover  was  hinged  and  proceed  to  raise  it  up  and  get  the 
meat,  or  if  he  should  step  aside  and  pick  up  a  stick  or  a 
stone  and  break  the  glass  and  get  the  meat,  we  should 
be  very  apt  to  conclude  that  he  was  thinking. 

In  these  and  similar  actions  there  is  again  a  common 
element,  there  is  an  interference  with  the  normal  comple- 
tion of  the  action.  The  flow  of  neurokyme  which,  started 
by  the  stimulus,  would  lead  thru  a  simple  neuron  pattern 
to  a  proper  action,  has  been  interrupted  or  impeded  and 
the  action  cannot  be  performed.  Again  we  may  conclude 
provisionally  that  thot  results  when  the  action  which 
would  naturally  follow  from  the  stimulus  is  impeded,  pre- 
vented, or  delayed ;  in  other  words,  when  the  natural  path 
of  the  nerve  energy  is  temporarily  blocked  and  the  usual 
action  does  not  follow  promptly.  This  conclusion,  how- 
ever, is  not  quite  safe;  because  the  dog  who  thrusts  his 
nose  against  the  glass,  thus  being  prevented  from  get- 
ting the  meat  and  swallowing  it,  would  riot  necessarily 
make  any  further  attempt  to  get  it.  The  natural  flow 
of  his  nerve  energy  is  impeded  but  he  simply  stops.  We 
would  not  conclude  that  he  had  thot.  Even  the  man 

[160] 


THOT 

winding  his  watch  might  be  conscious  that  he  had  not  at- 
tained the  end — the  stimulus  had  not  led  to  the  usual  re- 
sult, but  even  so,  he  might  put  the  watch  back  in  his 
pocket  still  without  thinking. 

Evidently  the  mere  interruption  of  the  flow  of  the  nerve 
energy  does  not  make  thinking  a  necessary  consequence. 
Let  us  then  examine  further.  The  man  who  finds  that 
his  watch  does  not  wind  may  very  probably  say,  "Oh! 
a  mainspring  broken."  This  we  understand  from  our 
previous  study  means  that  the  neurokyme  has  now  flowed 
across  into  an  associated  neuron  pattern — a  neuron  pat- 
tern established  by  previous  experience.  That  neuron 
pattern  was  complete  in  itself  and  led  to  its  appropriate 
action.  Now  that  the  nerve  energy  started  by  our 
original  stimulus,  watch  winding,  has  found  its  way  into 
this  other  pattern,  it  also  attains  its  end  and  the  circuit 
is  complete. 

We  made  another  assumption,  however,  that  the  man 
might  have  put  the  watch  back  into  his  pocket,  balked 
in  his  effort  to  wind  it,  but  doing  nothing.  In  such  a  case 
it  is  easy  to  conclude  that  the  nerve  energy  which  had 
been  started  by  the  original  stimulus  is  simply  dissipated, 
as  happens  when  a  stimulus  is  applied  for  which  there 
is  no  pattern  or  no  association.  Also,  in  the  case  of  the 
dog,  he  would  most  likely  not  find  a  way  to  open  the 
box,  or  to  break  the  glass,  but  would  rub  his  nose  against 
the  glass  until  something  else  attracted  him  and  a  new 
stimulus  led  to  another  line  of  action — again  the  original 
energy  is  dissipated. 

The  feeble-minded  regularly  show  this  dissipation  of 
mental  energy — this  failure  to  make  a  useful  association. 
Eddie  is  a  twenty-year  old  imbecile  of  mentality  6.  He 
has  been  trained  to  scrub  floors.  Every  week  he 

[161] 


scrubbed  an  unvarnished  floor  in  the  laboratory.  He 
started  in  the  corner  where  he  had  been  told  to  start, 
washed  and  wiped  what  he  could  reach;  moved  over, 
washed  and  wiped  the  next  section ;  and  so  on.  He  could 
easily  see  where  he  had  just  washed  and  properly  joined 
on  the  next  section.  After  a  time  the  floor  was  varnished 
and  then  Eddie  was  told  to  wash  it  up  in  the  same  way, 
using  now  only  cold  water  without  soap.  Because  the 
water  did  not  change  the  colour  of  the  varnished  floor, 
Eddie  could  no  longer  tell  where  he  had  washed  and 
where  not;  consequently  he  could  never  learn  to  wash 
the  floor.  He  would  either  stay  in  the  same  place,  wash- 
ing and  wiping  it  over  and  over  again,  or  he  would 
wander  around  at  random,  washing  here  a  spot  and  there 
a  spot  as  the  fancy  took  him.  His  motions  were  auto- 
matic or  impulsive ;  he  used  no  thot  to  discover  a  way  to 
tell  what  part  he  had  washed  and  what  part  not. 

Tom  is  a  talkative  imbecile  thirty-four  years  old, 
mentality  6.  He  will  tell  you  with  great  enthusiasm  that 
he  had  a  perfectly  splendid  dinner,  but  when  asked  what 
he  had  for  dinner  he  becomes  speechless.  He  is  unable 
to  think  of  anything  that  was  on  the  table.  Altho  the 
writer  has  talked  with  him  almost  daily  for  a  dozen  years, 
when  he  recently  playfully  pretended  not  to  know  him, 
Tom  was  thoroly  puzzled  and  speechless.  After  a  faint, 
"You  know  me,  I  am  Tom,"  he  turned  and  left  the  room, 
unable  alike  to  think  that  it  was  a  joke  or  of  any  further 
way  of  proving  his  identity. 

Bert  is  a  high  grade  imbecile,  twenty-seven  years  old, 
mentality  7,  who  always  has  a  way  out  that  is  satis- 
factory to  him,  but  it  is  automatic  and  not  thotful. 
Asked  on  Lincoln's  birthday,  "Whose  birthday  is  it  to- 
day?" he  answered,  "Lincoln's."  "How  do  you  know 

[162] 


THOT 

it  is  Lincoln's?"  "Because  the  flag  is  flying.'* 
' ' Who  was  Lincoln ? ' '  (Emphatically)  1 1  Washington. ' ' 
"How  often  does  his  birthday  come?"  "Oh,  I  don't 
know.  Perhaps  once  every  two  years."  Bert  picks  up 
scraps  of  conversation  and  strings  them  together  with- 
out any  thot.  He  heard  some  one  talk  about  Vernon 
Castle's  accident  and  came  in  with  the  announcement. 
"Vernon  Castle  fell  four  feet  out  of  an  aeroplane  and  was 
killed."  From  which  he  concluded  that  as  for  him  he 
"would  stay  on  the  earth  or  under  the  earth,  but  not  up  in 
the  air." 

Garry,  a  high  grade  moron,  twenty  years  old,  mentality 
about  10,  writes  to  the  Superintendent :  ' '  Dear  Profes- 
sor : — Am  sorry  to  say  that  I  am  getting  my  mind  up  to 
run  away  again." 

Two  high  grade  morons  who  had  run  away  were  acci- 
dentally met  by  the  superintendent  of  the  institution  in 
the  railroad  station  in  the  city.  It  would  have  been  per- 
fectly easy  for  them  to  escape,  but  they  could  think  of 
no  way  out  of  the  difficulty  and  passively  followed  him 
back  to  the  institution.  Evidently  the  blocking  of  the 
neurokyme  is  not  of  itself  indicative  of  thot. 

If  our  assumptions  are  correct  we  at  least  have  a  clue, 
since  it  is  possible  to  see  a  plausible  explanation  in  the 
view  that  when  the  neurokyme  is  blocked  in  its  natural 
course  it  flows  into  some  other  ready  made  pattern,  if 
any  such  pattern  is  available;  that  is  to  say,  if  the  per- 
son has  had  experiences  in  any  way  associated  with  the 
present  one.  The  man  could  not  say,  "Broken  main- 
spring," unless  sometime  he  had  had  the  experience  of  a 
broken  mainspring. 

Putting  all  this  together  we  should  have  to  conclude 
that  thot  appears  when  the  neurokyme  in  a  simple  neuron 

[163] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NOEMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

pattern  is  interrupted  under  conditions  where  there  are 
associated  neuron  patterns  into  which  that  nerve  energy 
may  flow  and  lead  to  action.  Two  facts  will  help  make 
this  conclusion  plausible;  first  our  hypothesis  assumes 
the  presence  of  neuron  patterns,  the  result  of  associated 
experiences.  This  fits  well  with  what  we  know  of  thot. 
It  is  the  person  with  large  experience  that  is  able  to 
think  out  a  problem,  while  poverty  of  thot  and  poverty 
of  experience  go  together. 

The  second  point  is  that  our  view  is  thoroly  consistent 
with  the  history  of  those  actions  which  are  neither  reflex 
nor  instinctive  and  yet  do  not  involve  thot.  Take  the 
watch-winding  itself.  It  is  certainly  not  instinctive,  and 
in  the  beginning,  the  first  time  one  winds  a  watch,  it  does 
require  thot  and  illustrates  all  that  we  have  said.  But 
once  the  new  path  is  established  and  the  nerve  energy 
finds  a  way  out  so  that  the  stimulus,  the  sight  of  the 
watch,  leads  to  the  act  of  winding,  there  is  no  longer  an 
interruption  of  the  flow  of  the  neurokyme  and  it  becomes 
automatic. 

Now  that  we  have  a  picture  of  the  thot  process  itself, 
we  may  discuss  some  terms  in  common  use  and  usually 
considered  to  be  psychological  topics.  These  are  percep- 
tion, judgment  and  reasoning. 

We  have  just  seen  that  when  the  simple  flow  of  the 
neurokyme  from  the  stimulus  to  the  muscular  activity 
is  interrupted  we  have  thot,  provided  the  neurokyme  finds 
another  pathway  leading  to  muscular  activity  and  is  not 
entirely  dissipated.  It  will  be  evident  that  there  are 
varying  degrees  of  elaborateness  in  the  neuron  patterns 
that  are  substituted  for  the  original  ones  and  that  on 
this  basis  it  is  possible  to  classify  or  discuss  different 
degrees  of  thot. 

[164] 


PURE  SENSATION 

We  have  already  used  the  term  sensation  and  con- 
trasted it  with  idea,  but  we  have  not  as  yet  denned  it. 
Sensation  is  the  consciousness  of  a  stimulus — the  con- 
sciousness that  results  from  the  flow  of  neurokyme,  which, 
started  by  the  stimulus  in  the  sensory  neuron  and  being 
conveyed  to  the  cortex,  passes  at  once,  by  way  of  an  as- 
sociation neuron,  to  a  motor  neuron  and  out  to  the 
muscle.  Thus  it  is  the  simplest  kind  of  cortical  neuron 
pattern. 

It  is  often  stated  that  adult  human  beings  seldom 
hav3  pure  sensation.  This  is  because  experience  has 
built  up  so  many  associations  with  every  kind  of  stimulus 
that  the  neurokyme  started  by  the  stimulus  does  not  stop 
with  the  simple  pattern  but  goes  on  to  a  more  elaborate 
one  which  makes  the  situation  mean  something.  A  loud 
noise,  a  bright  light,  a  taste  or  an  odour  is  no  longer  a 
sensation  to  us  because  it  is  immediately  the  sound  of  a 
gun,  an  electric  light,  the  taste  of  bitter,  the  odour  of 
illuminating  gas.  That  is  to  say,  each  one  is  something 
more  than  pure  sensation. 

Even  when  we  recognize  the  stimulus  as  a  sound,  a 
light,  a  taste,  or  a  smell,  we  have  gone  beyond  the  limit 
of  pure  sensation.  We  probably  come  the  nearest  to  a 
pure  sensation  in  the  case  of  certain  vague  and  indefinite 
pains,  for  these  are  unnamed  and  often  indefinitely  lo- 
cated and  seem  to  be  nothing  but,  as  we  describe  them, 
sensation  of  pain.  A  blow  on  the  back  of  the  head  which 
results  in  " seeing  stars"  is  perhaps  nearly  pure  sensa- 
tion of  brightness.  For  since  it  does  not  come  thru  the 
eye  we  do  not  think  of  it  as  being  an  eye  sensation  of 
colour  or  brightness,  and  one  so  seldom  has  the  experi- 
ence that  it  has  not  become  associated  even  with  its  cause. 
Even  in  these  cases,  however,  the  neurokyme  does  flow 

[165] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

into  another  nerve  pattern  and  we  have  something  more 
than  pure  sensation.  This  is  inevitable  since  the  pure 
sensation  can  have  no  meaning  for  us  unless  it  is  as- 
sociated with  something  else.  With  this  attempt  to  in- 
dicate what  a  pure  sensation  is,  we  may  pass  on  to  the 
next  step;  and  here  we  have  simply  to  follow  the 
neurokyme  aroused  by  the  stimulus  into  the  nearest 
neuron  pattern. 

When  rather  strong  air  vibrations  which  we  call  sound 
strike  the  ear  of  the  infant,  he  turns  his  head  in  the 
directon  of  the  sound.  This  is  probably  a  pure  reflex, 
since  the  turning  of  the  head  is  not  the  result  of  any 
thot  or  judgment,  plan  or  determination.  Yet  the  con- 
sequences are  of  great  importance.  For  when  he  turns 
his  head,  rays  of  light  stimulate  his  retina  and  arouse 
another  simple  neuron  pattern  in  the  brain.  This,  like 
the  other,  taken  by  itself  might  be  a  simple  reflex  and 
arouse  no  consciousness.  But  the  two  taken  together 
are  associated  as  we  have  already  explained  and  we  have 
a  sound-sight  association. 

Even  here  it  is  difficult  for  us  not  to  pass  over  a  large 
amount  of  experience  and  say,  he  now  sees  what  caused 
the  sound;  but  we  must  try  to  realize  that  in  the  first 
instance  there  is  no  such  conclusion.  The  sight,  the 
sound,  simply  exist  for  him  together, — the  one — the  other. 
It  is  true  as  we  have  already  explained  that  the  next 
time  this  sound  stimulus  strikes  his  ear  he  will  "think 
of"  the  stimulus  that  formerly  aroused  his  visual  area. 
Or  if  he  sees  the  object  that  aroused  the  visual  area,  he 
will  "think  of"  the  sound  that  aroused  the  auditory  area 
on  the  previous  occasion. 

Thus  the  two  simple  neuron  patterns,  each  of  which 
by  itself  would  have  no  meaning,  now  come  together  to 

[166] 


PERCEPTION 

form  a  larger  neuron  pattern  and  we  have  the  first  ele- 
ments of  thot.  Until  language  appears  there  is  nothing 
else.  These  two  sensations  are  associated  and  either  one 
suggests  the  other.  The  psychological  name  for  this 
process  is  perception.  It  is  also  called  judgment. 

The  higher  grades  of  feeble-minded  make  this  con- 
nection comparatively  easily,  but  as  we  go  down  the  scale 
to  the  middle  and  low  grades  the  association  is  made  with 
increasing  difficulty. 

On  three  successive  occasions,  Kirk,  a  middle  grade 
imbecile,  deliberately  put  his  hand  on  a  hot  radiator  and 
held  it  there  until  it  was  burned.  Evidently  he  was  un- 
able to  make  any  association  between  the  familiar 
radiator  and  the  burned  hand.  Even  with  the  higher 
grades  of  children  it  is  often  necessary  to  point  out  the 
connection  definitely  and  consciously  in  order  to  make 
an  association  which  is  necessary  for  their  comfort  or 
well-being. 

Unfortunately  for  our  psychology,  we  adults  can  never 
know  just  how  the  primitive  associations  come  together 
and  have  meaning  for  us,  in  other  words,  how  a  percep- 
tion is  formed.  But  we  do  have  a  description  of  the 
process  by  one  in  whom,  on  account  of  blindness  and 
deafness,  the  process  was  delayed  so  that  she  remembers 
it.  Helen  Keller  (29)  has  given  us  a  graphic  description 
of  the  way  in  which  it  dawned  upon  her  mind  that  things 
have  names.  It  must  be  remembered  that  this  is  not 
quite  the  way  it  comes  to  the  infant,  because  Helen  Keller 
had  begun  to  talk  a  little  before  the  illness  had  left  her 
blind  and  deaf  and  she  herself  says,  "Suddenly  I  felt 
a  mystic  consciousness  as  of  something1  forgotten — a 
thrill  of  returning  thot. ' '  Following  is  her  wonderful  de- 
scription of  this  process. 

[167] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

"The  morning  after  my  teacher  came  she  led  me  into 
her  room  and  gave  me  a  doll.  The  little  blind  children 
at  the  Perkins  Institution  had  sent  it  and  Laura  Bridg- 
man  had  dressed  it;  but  I  did  not  know  this  until  after- 
ward. When  I  had  played  with  it  a  little  while,  Miss 
Sullivan  slowly  spelled  into  my  hand  the  word  ' '  d-o-1-1. ' ' 
I  was  at  once  interested  in  the  finger  play  and  tried 
to  imitate  it.  When  I  finally  succeeded  in  making  the 
letters  correctly  I  was  flushed  with  childish  pleasure  and 
pride.  Eunning  downstairs  to  my  mother  I  held  up  my 
hand  and  made  the  letters  for  doll.  I  did  not  know  that 
I  was  spelling  a  word  or  even  that  words  existed ;  I  was 
simply  making  my  fingers  go  in  monkey-like  imitation. 
In  the  days  that  followed  I  learned  to  spell  in  this  un- 
comprehending way  a  great  many  words,  among  them 
pin,  hat,  cup,  and  a  few  verbs  like  sit,  stand  and  walk. 
But  my  teacher  had  been  with  me  several  weeks  before 
I  understood  that  everything  has  a  name. 

' '  One  day,  while  I  was  playing  with  my  new  doll,  Miss 
Sullivan  put  my  big  rag  doll  into  my  lap  also,  spelled 
f d-o-1-1'  and  tried  to  make  me  understand  that  'd-o-1-1' 
applied  to  both.  Earlier  in  the  day  we  had  had  a  tussle 
over  the  words  'm-u-g'  and  'w-a-t-e-r.'  Miss  Sulli- 
van had  tried  to  impress  it  upon  me  that  'm-u-g'  is  mug 
and  that  'w-a-t-e-r'  is  water,  but  I  persisted  in  confound- 
ing the  two.  In  despair  she  had  dropped  the  subject  for 
the  time,  only  to  renew  it  at  the  first  opportunity.  I  had 
become  impatient  at  her  repeated  attempts  and,  seizing 
the  new  doll,  I  dashed  it  upon  the  floor.  I  was  keenly 
delighted  when  I  felt  the  fragments  of  the  broken  doll 
at  my  feet.  Neither  sorrow  nor  regret  followed  my  pas- 
sionate outburst.  I  had  not  loved  the  doll.  In  the  still, 
dark  world  in  which  I  lived  there  was  no  strong  senti- 

[168] 


HELEN  KELLER  QUOTED 

ment  or  tenderness.  I  felt  my  teacher  sweep  the  frag- 
ments to  one  side  of  the  hearth,  and  I  had  a  sense  of 
satisfaction  that  the  cause  of  my  discomfort  was  re- 
moved. She  brought  me  my  hat,  and  I  knew  I  was 
going  out  into  the  warm  sunshine.  This  thot,  if  a  word- 
less sensation  may  be  called  a  thot,  made  me  hop  and  skip 
with  pleasure. 

'  *  We  walked  down  the  path  to  the  well-house,  attracted 
by  the  fragrance  of  the  honeysuckle  with  which  it  was 
covered.  Some  one  was  drawing  water  and  my  teacher 
placed  my  hand  under  the  spout.  As  the  cool  stream 
gushed  over  one  hand  she  spelled  into  the  other  the  word 
water,  first  slowly,  then  rapidly.  I  stood  still,  my  whole 
attention  fixed  upon  the  motions  of  her  fingers.  Sud- 
denly I  felt  a  misty  consciousness  as  of  something  for- 
gotten— a  thrill  of  returning  thot;  and  somehow  the 
mystery  of  language  was  revealed  to  me.  I  knew  then 
that  'w-a-t-e-r'  meant  the  wonderful  cool  something  that 
was  flowing  over  my  hand.  That  living  word  awakened 
my  soul,  gave  it  light,  hope,  joy,  set  it  free !  There  were 
barriers  still,  it  is  true,  but  barriers  that  could  in  time 
be  swept  away. 

"I  left  the  well-house  eager  to  learn.  Everything  had 
a  name,  and  each  name  gave  birth  to  a  new  thot.  As  we 
returned  to  the  house  every  object  which  I  touched 
seemed  to  quiver  with  life.  That  was  because  I  saw 
everything  with  the  strange,  new  sight  that  had  come  to 
me.  On  entering  the  door  I  remembered  the  doll  I  had 
broken.  I  felt  my  way  to  the  hearth  and  picked  up  the 
pieces.  I  tried  vainly  to  put  them  together.  Then  my 
eyes  filled  with  tears;  for  I  realized  what  I  had  done, 
and  for  the  first  time  I  felt  repentance  and  sorrow. 

'  *  I  learned  a  great  many  new  words  that  day.  I  do  not 

[169] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

remember  what  they  all  were ;  but  I  do  know  that  mother, 
father,  sister,  teacher  were  among  them — words  that 
were  to  make  the  world  blossom  for  me,  'like  Aaron's 
rod,  with  flowers.'  It  would  have  been  difficult  to  find 
a  happier  child  than  I  was  as  I  lay  in  my  crib  at  the 
close  of  that  eventful  day  and  lived  over  the  joys  it  had 
brot  me,  and  for  the  first  time  longed  for  a  new  day  to 
come." 

It  is  worth  while  also  to  quote  her  teacher,  Miss  Sulli- 
van, on  the  same  event.  Miss  Sullivan 's  letter : 

' 'April  5,  1887. 

"I  must  write  you  a  line  this  morning  because  some- 
thing very  important  has  happened.  Helen  has  taken 
the  second  great  step  in  her  education.  She  has  learned 
that  everything  has  a  name,  and  that  the  manual  alphabet 
is  the  key  to  everything  she  wants  to  know. 

"In  a  previous  letter  I  think  I  wrote  you  that  'mug' 
and  'milk'  had  given  Helen  more  trouble  than  all  the 
rest.  She  confused  the  nouns  with  the  verb  'drink.' 
She  didn't  know  the  word  for  'drink'  but  went  through 
the  pantomime  of  drinking  whenever  she  spelled  'mug' 
or  'milk.'  This  morning,  while  she  was  washing,  she 
wanted  to  know  the  name  for  'water.'  When  she  wants 
to  know  the  name  of  anything,  she  points  to  it  and  pats 
my  hand.  I  spelled  'w-a-t-e-r'  and  thought  no  more 
about  it  until  after  breakfast.  Then  it  occurred  to  me 
that  with  the  help  of  this  new  word  I  might  succeed  in 
straightening  out  the  'mug-milk'  difficulty.  We  went 
out  to  the  pump-house,  and  I  made  Helen  hold  her  mug 
under  the  spout  while  I  pumped.  As  the  cold  water 
gushed  forth,  filling  the  mug,  I  spelled  'w-a-t-e-r'  in 

[170] 


PERCEPTION 

Helen's  free  hand.  The  word  coming  so  close  upon  the 
sensation  of  cold  water  rushing  over  her  hand  seemed 
to  startle  her.  She  dropped  the  mug  and  stood  as  one 
transfixed.  A  new  light  came  into  her  face.  She  spelled 
'water'  several  times.  Then  she  dropped  on  the  ground 
and  asked  for  its  name  and  pointed  to  the  pump  and  the 
trellis,  and  suddenly  turning  round  she  asked  for  my 
name.  I  spelled  '  Teacher.'  Just  then  the  nurse 
brought  Helen's  little  sister  into  the  pump-house,  and 
Helen  spelled  'baby'  and  pointed  to  the  nurse.  All  the 
way  back  to  the  house  she  was  highly  excited,  and  learned 
the  name  of  every  object  she  touched,  so  that  in  a  few 
hours  she  had  added  thirty  new  words  to  her  vocabulary. 
Here  are  some  of  them :  Door,  open,  shut,  give,  go,  come, 
and  a  great  many  more. 

"P.  S.  I  didn't  finish  my  letter  in  time  to  get  it  posted 
last  night ;  so  I  shall  add  a  line.  Helen  got  up  this  morn- 
ing like  a  radiant  fairy.  She  has  flitted  from  object  to 
object,  asking  the  name  of  everything  and  kissing  me  for 
very  gladness.  Last  night  when  I  got  in  bed,  she  stole 
into  my  arms  of  her  own  accord  and  kissed  me  for  the 
first  time,  and  I  thot  my  heart  would  burst,  so  full  was 
it  of  joy." 

This  is  perception  and  it  is  perfectly  described  in 
Titchener's  definition  of  perception  as  "a  group  of  sen- 
sations having  a  meaning  for  us. ' ' 

One  difficulty  still  remains  and  is  found  even  in  the 
foregoing  description  of  Miss  Keller's  experience.  We 
must  remember  that  in  her  case  the  association  was  not 
between  the  feel  of  the  cold  water  and  the  sound  of  the 
word  water.  She  tells  us  that  Miss  Sullivan  spelled  the 
word  doll  into  her  hand,  but  she  also  said,  "I  did  not  know 

[171] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

that  I  was  spelling  a  word  or  even  that  words  existed. 
I  was  simply  making  my  fingers  go  in  monkey-like  imita- 
tion." The  associaton  that  was  made  in  Helen  Keller's 
mind  or  brain  was  between  the  feel  of  the  cold  running 
water  and  the  group  of  pressure  sensations  that  were 
made  by  Miss  Sullivan's  fingers  upon  Helen's  palm. 
What  actually  happened  to  her  at  that  glad  moment  was 
that  these  two  centres  in  her  brain  had  become  so  thoroly 
associated  that  she  at  last  realized  that  they  belonged  to- 
gether, that  that  cold  flowing  substance  was  always  to  be 
called  to  mind  whenever  a  certain  series  of  pressures  were 
made  in  her  hand,  or  as  we  say,  that  that  substance  had  a 
name,  and  then  came  the  further  generalization  made  by 
her  that  everything  has  a  name,  that  another  group  of 
pressures  on  her  hand  constituted  the  name  of  the  doll 
which  she  had  broken.  Let  us  look  a  little  further  into 
this  matter  of  names.  It  is  a  confusing  point  in  psy- 
chology, and  we  shall  do  well  if  we  can  clear  it  up. 

Summary 

1.  Reflex,  instinctive,  impulsive  and  automatic  action 
involve  no  thot. 

2.  Even  man  " rarely  thinks"  (James)  since  so  much 
of  his  activity  is  to  be  classified  under  one  or  the  other  of 
the  above  heads. 

3.  There  must  be  an  interruption  of  the  natural  flow 
of  nerve  energy  before  we  can  have  thot. 

4.  Yet  mere  interruption  does  not  produce  thot. 

5.  Thot  appears  when  the  neurokyme  in  a  simple  neu- 
ron pattern  is  interrupted  under  conditions  where  there 
are  associated  patterns  into  which  the  nerve  energy  may 
flow  and  lead  to  action. 

6.  Experience,  which  develops  the  more  complicated 

[172] 


PERCEPTION 

neuron  patterns,  is  the  condition  for  thot.    Poverty  of 
thot  and  poverty  of  experience  go  together. 

7.  Perception,  judgment  and  reasoning  are  different 
phases  of  the  thot  process. 


[173] 


CHAPTER  X 
THOT — Continued 

What  are  Names? — It  has  been  said  that  the  sole  con- 
dition for  the  enormous  mental  development  of  man  as 
compared  to  the  lower  animals  is  in  his  invention  of  lan- 
guage. Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say  his  extension 
of  language,  for  even  animals  have  the  elements  of  lan- 
guage. Psychologically  considered,  language  is  an  asso- 
ciation, such  as  we  have  described,  between  common  ob- 
jects, actions,  or  feelings  and  certain  sounds,  visual  sym- 
bols, or  as  in  the  case  of  Helen  Keller,  tactual  sensations. 
The  great  fact  that  led  to  the  extension  of  language  was 
its  marvellous  usefulness.  One  has  only  to  think  of  the 
great  difficulty,  the  enormous  waste  of  time  and  energy, 
that  we  experience  in  attempting  to  communicate  with  a 
person  who  does  not  understand  our  language,  in  order 
to  see  something  of  the  significance  of  language  for  the 
race. 

Let  us  follow  this  thot  a  little  further.  We  have  said 
that  animals  have  the  elements  of  language ;  that  is  to  say, 
there  are  certain  sounds  or  certain  sights  that  are  clearly 
associated  in  their  brains  with  certain  objects  or  certain 
actions.  Domestic  animals  come  when  called  because  the 
sounds  used  in  the  call  are  associated  in  their  minds  usu- 
ally with  food.  If  they  are  always  fed  by  the  same  per- 
son the  sight  of  the  person  is  associated  with  food  and  is 
to  them  the  symbol.  Many  of  these  associations  are  built 
up  in  the  brain  of  the  animal  rather  accidentally,  but  they 
may  also  be  brot  about  by  training.  The  extent  to  which 

[174] 


DO  ANIMALS  THINK? 

this  is  possible  has  led  people  to  think  that  amimals  under- 
stand language  and  think.  The  question  as  to  whether 
this  belief  is  true  or  not  brings  us  back  to  the  statement 
that  we  made  earlier ;  it  depends  upon  what  we  mean  by 
thot  and  what  we  mean  by  language. 

If  thot  is  what  we  have  denned  it,  it  is  not  likely  that 
animals  can  be  properly  said  to  think  to  any  extent  worth 
mentioning,  since  it  is  not  likely  that  they  have  more  than 
one  reaction  to  the  same  stimulus.  If  language  means 
having  a  few  auditory  and  visual  stimuli  definitely  asso- 
ciated with  corresponding  objects  or  acts,  then  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  animals  have  the  rudiments  of  language. 
Not  only  do  they  in  this  sense  understand  certain  words 
and  signs  that  man  makes  to  them,  but  they  have  to  the 
same  degree  their  own  language.  The  sentinel  crow  has 
one  note  that  seems  to  say  * '  All  is  well, ' '  and  another  that 
says,  "It  is  time  to  fly  away."  The  cock  says  "Come 
here,  here  is  some  food,"  and  also,  "Be  on  your  guard, 
danger  is  near."  The  cat  has  a  cry  of  hunger,  a  cry  of 
anger,  a  cry  of  fear  and  a  call  to  her  mate.  Many  other 
instances  will  occur  to  the  reader. 

If  on  the  other  hand  language  is  thot  of  as  having  any- 
thing like  the  practical  value  that  it  has  for  man,  then  it 
is  a  waste  of  time  to  discuss  the  question,  for  animals 
have  at  most  only  a  few  symbols,  whereas  man  has  de- 
veloped thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  combi- 
nations. 

Turning  our  attention  to  the  language  of  man,  it  is 
helpful  to  remember  that  a  large  part  of  his  early  per- 
ceptions consist  in  what  is  in  reality  learning  language, — 
that  is  to  say,  learning  the  names  of  things ;  or  again  in 
establishing  associations  between  the  auditory,  the  visual 
or  the  tactual  stimulus  and  the  name  of  the  thing  that 

[175] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

gives  rise  to  the  stimulus — as  when  one  hears  a  piano, 
sees  a  piano  or  touches  it.  The  child  sees  a  certain  ani- 
mal and  is  told  it  is  a  horse.  It  is  common  to  say  that  he 
perceives  a  horse.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  has  only  learned 
the  name,  has  formed  an  association  between  a  certain 
visual  image  that  he  gets  from  looking  at  the  horse  and 
an  auditory  sound  that  comes  from  the  word  horse  as 
some  one  tells  him  "That  is  a  horse,"  and  also  an  associ- 
ation with  the  motor  expression  as  he  repeats  to  himself 
the  word  horse. 

Some  have  spoken  of  this  tendency  to  name  things  as 
the  naming  instinct.  The  persistence  of  the  naming  habit 
and  the  satisfaction  which  seems  to  go  with  it  would  give 
some  colour  to  the  suggestion  that  it  is  instinctive,  were 
it  not  for  the  fact  that  it  so  clearly  has  to  be  learned. 
Altho  none  of  us  can  remember  it,  every  infant  undoubt- 
edly has  to  go  thru  a  long  period  similar  to  the  one  de- 
scribed by  Helen  Keller.  There  is  a  long  period  before 
the  fact  is  appreciated  that  things  have  names  and  prob- 
ably the  joy  accompanying  this  discovery  is  the  main  ele- 
ment in  perpetuating  the  process.  Just  as  Helen  Keller 
learned' many  words  in  the  next  few  hours  and  days,  so 
every  child  who  has  discovered  that  everything  has  a 
name  is  interested  in  learning  new  names. 

The  unfortunate  part,  for  the  development  of  knowl- 
edge, is  that  so  many  persons  are  satisfied  with  the  mere 
name,  apparently  believing  that  to  know  the  name  is  to 
know  the  thing  itself.  Of  course,  no  more  serious  mis- 
take can  be  made.  It  is  not  many  years  since  certain  sub- 
jects of  study  in  our  schools  were  almost  entirely  a  matter 
of  learning  names.  Take  for  example  botany  as  it  was 
frequently  taught  from  twenty-five  to  forty  years  ago. 
The  whole  purpose  of  the  study  was  to  learn  the  termin- 

[176] 


NAMES  AS  SYMBOLS 

ology  so  that  a  person  could  take  a  plant  and  find  its 
name.  Today  many  a  person  is  considered  a  botanist 
whose  only  claim  to  the  designation  is  that  he  knows  the 
names  of  the  common  plants  or  has  a  portfolio  of  dried 
specimens  properly  named. 

The  same  is  almost  as  true  of  mineralogy  and  to  quite  a 
degree  of  astronomy,  and  even  geography,  especially  all 
that  part  of  geography  which  consists  in  knowing  the 
name  of  the  city  that  is  on  a  river  with  a  name  or  the 
name  of  the  country  that  lies  west  of  another  country 
named ,  or  the  name  of  the  city  that  is  called  the  capi- 
tal of  a  State  with  a  given  name. 

Even  today  there  is  much  of  this  kind  of  teaching  more 
or  less  unconsciously  retained  in  the  schools;  and  the 
popular  interest  in  knowing  the  names  of  plants,  birds, 
animals,  stars  is  strong  testimony  to  the  fact  that,  with  a 
great  many  people,  something  of  the  original  joy  of  find- 
ing that  everything  has  a  name  persists  into  adult  life. 
All  this  would  be  superseded,  if  the  fact  was  fully  appre- 
ciated that  words  are  only  symbols  and  are  of  no  value  ex- 
cept as  one  understands  the  thing  symbolized.  They  are 
a  convenient  medium  of  exchange  like  paper  money ;  but 
if  there  is  nothing  back  of  them  they  are  valueless. 

Prof.  Rugh  of  the  University  of  California  has  summed 
the  matter  up  in  a  single  sentence,  "  Words  do  not  convey 
ideas,  they  arouse  experiences. ' '  As  we  have  said,  words 
are  symbols  and  as  symbols  for  experiences  they  are  con- 
venient; but  without  the  thing  symbolized  they  are  not 
only  useless  but  dangerous. 

Much  has  been  made  of  words  in  psychology  under  the 
head  of  verbal-types,  verbal-associations,  verbal-memory, 
etc.  All  of  which  only  means  that  the  word,  the  symbol 
for  the  experience,  can  be  associated,  remembered  and 

[177] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

dealt  with  just  as  the  original  experience.  It  is  probable 
that  this  subject  has  been  given  so  much  importance  in 
psychology  because  of  the  fact  that  there  is  a  so-called 
"centre"  in  the  brain  for  visual  word  images,  another  for 
auditory  word  images  and  one  for  motor  word  images. 

Moreover,  clinical  experience  has  proved  that  injury 
to  any  one  or  all  of  these  centres  destroys  one  or  all  of 
these  functions.  A  person  whose  visual  verbal  centre 
is  destroyed,  loses  the  ability  to  read  and  write.  He  is 
said  to  have  word  blindness  or  alexia.  One  whose  audi- 
tory verbal  centre  is  destroyed  cannot  understand  spoken 
words ;  and  one  whose  motor  verbal  centre  is  destroyed  is 
unable  to  form  words  and  speech.  The  former  condition 
is  called  word  deafness  and  the  latter  dumbness  or  aphasia 
in  a  specific  sense.  The  term  aphasia  is  also  used  in  a 
generic  sense  to  cover  all  the  foregoing  verbal  defects. 

The  accompanying  table  from  Church  &  Peterson  (9) 
gives  in  condensed  form  the  main  facts  about  the  different 
aphasias. 

Judgment. — Keturning  now  to  consideration  of  the  thot 
process,  we  recall  that  we  said  that  the  process  defined 
as  perception  was  sometimes  called  judgment.  Stout 
says,  "Judgment  is  the  yes-no  consciousness.  Under  it 
I  include  every  mode  of  affirmation  and  denial — every- 
thing in  the  nature  of  an  acknowledgment  explicit  or  im- 
plicit of  objective  existence."  Titchener  calls  judgment 
the  simplest  thot  process.  Both  these  definitions  make 
it  clear  that  judgment  as  used  by  the  psychologist  includes 
much  more  than  the  popular  conception  which  makes 
judgment  very  largely  synonymous  with  reasoning,  or 
the  result  of  reasoning. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  difference  between  what  we 
call  judgment  and  what  we  call  perception  is  a  difference 

[178] 


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[179] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  degree  only.  We  have  said  that  when  two  stimuli, 
each  arousing  a  sensation,  become  firmly  associated,  the 
sensations  come  to  have  meaning  and  this  is  called  per- 
ception, or  judgment.  It  is  a  question  whether  we  should 
apply  the  term  judgment  to  this  most  elemental  thot 
process ;  whether  we  should  not  in  fact  call  this  perception 
and  reserve  the  term  judgment  for  the  next  higher,  more 
complicated  process. 

We  must  now  attempt  to  understand  the  process  itself. 
Let  us  take  an  example.  A  child  gets  a  stimulation  of 
the  retina  which  gives  him  a  sensation  of  brightness, 
called  white.  He  is  also  conscious  of  the  wide  extent  of 
this  whiteness,  that  it  covers  the  ground.  He  learns  that 
this  white  something  on  the  ground  is  called  snow.  Pass- 
ing over  certain  intermediate  processes,  let  us  say  that  he 
perceives  this  object  that  is  called  snow — in  short  he  per- 
ceives snow.  In  the  brain  he  has  therefore  a  fairly 
simple  neuron  pattern  which  gives  rise  to  the  conscious- 
ness *  *  snow. ' '  He  has  previously,  and  as  the  result  of  en- 
tirely different  experiences,  perceived  that  some  things 
are  cold;  we  say  he  has  a  concept  of  coldness  with  its  un- 
derlying neuron  pattern.  Now  it  happens  that  he  takes 
some  of  the  snow  into  his  hand.  The  neuron  pattern  un- 
derlying the  concept  "snow"  and  the  neuron  pattern  un- 
derlying the  concept  "cold"  are  at  once  brot  together, 
associated.  The  two  patterns  become  so  closely  associ- 
ated that  they  form  one  pattern.  The  consciousness  is 
also  extended  to  cover  what  is  expressed  by  snow — cold ; 
or  "the  snow  is  cold."  This  is  a  judgment. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  only  difference  between  this 
neuron  pattern  and  the  one  that  gave  rise  to  the  first  per- 
ception is  in  the  elaborateness  of  the  pattern.  In  the 
first  place  there  were  simple  patterns  underlying  sensa- 

[180] 


JUDGMENT 

tions.  Next  there  were  two  patterns  each  underlying  a 
perception.  Now  there  is  one  elaborate  pattern  under- 
lying a  judgment.  As  already  stated,  perception  and 
judgment  really  differ  only  in  degree,  and  yet  it  seems  de- 
sirable to  make  this  simple  distinction.  If  we  accept  this 
distinction  it  would  follow  that  just  as  we  said  that  a  per- 
ception is  a  group  of  sensations,  so  we  could  say  that  a 
judgment  is  a  group  of  perceptions. 

Moreover  we  recognize  that  it  is  possble  to  make  a 
great  many  judgments  in  regard  to  one  subject,  such  as : 
snow  melts,  snow  is  frozen  water,  snow  falls  in  winter. 
In  each  one  of  these  judgments  we  have  enlarged  our  neu- 
ron pattern  by  the  addition  of  smaller  patterns  gained 
from  experience,  until  somewhere  in  the  process  this  pat- 
tern becomes  so  elaborate  and  the  consciousness  resulting 
from  its  activity  is  so  complex  that  we  cannot  hold  it  all, 
and  some  one  phase  of  it  becomes  stronger  than  the  rest, 
is  the  centre  of  the  consciousness,  " holds  our  attention." 

It  will  be  seen  that,  viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  con- 
sciousness, this  is  all  a  question  of  association ;  moreover, 
that  the  original  associations  making  up  the  perception 
and  the  simple  associations  forming  the  judgment  are  as- 
sociations by  contiguity.  It  is  equally  clear,  however, 
that  many  of  our  judgments  are  associations  by  similar- 
ity. For  example,  the  child  seeing  snow  for  the  first 
time  may  say, '  *  The  ground  is  covered  with  sugar. ' '  His 
judgment  is  based  upon  an  association  by  smilarity,  be- 
cause snow  and  sugar  are  identical  in  colour. 

This  makes  clear  the  definition  given  by  Binet  (4)  who 
says:  "Perception  is  a  synthetic  operation  resulting  from 
the  uniting  of  information  actually  furnished  by  the 
senses  with  information  furnished  by  preceding  experi- 
ences." The  information  actually  "  furnished  by  the 

[181] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

senses"  is  the  new  neuron  pattern  aroused  by  the  stimu- 
lus, which  becomes  connected  with  a  neuron  pattern  al- 
ready formed,  that  is,  "furnished  by  preceding  expe- 
riences." Every  simple  declarative  sentence  is  the  ex- 
pression of  a  judgment,  but  it  should  be  noted  that  it  is 
not  necessarily  the  expression  of  the  judgment  of  the  per- 
son who  utters  the  sentence.  One  may  simply  repeat  the 
sentence  which  is  the  expression  of  a  judgment  which 
some  one  else  has  originated.  Indeed  much  of  our  con- 
versation is  precisely  that.  One  does  not  actually  form  a 
judgment  unless  he  has  the  experience  underlying  it. 

The  feeble-minded,  having  as  we  have  seen  good  nat- 
ural memories,  often  repeat  judgments  and  are  given 
credit  for  intelligence.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  oft 
heard  paradox  "He  talks  intelligently  but  he  acts  fool- 
ishly." 

Just  as  perception  blends  into  judgment,  so  judgment 
blends  into  reasoning.  It  is  clear  that  the  illustration  of 
the  child  who  called  the  snow  sugar  might  just  as  well 
have  been  described  as  a  case  of  childish  reasoning.  And 
this  is  true,  because,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  are  dealing 
with  one  and  the  same  process — a  proccess  of  association 
between  neuron  patterns  which  have  been  built  up  by  ex- 
perience. The  difference  is  one  of  degree  and  not  of 
kind. 

Reasoning  has  sometimes  been  denned  as  a  train  of 
judgments.  It  will  be  clear  at  once  that  this  will  require 
more  experience,  more  neuron  patterns  to  be  associated; 
and  the  result  of  the  association  is  a  more  elaborate  pat- 
tern than  before.  But  this  is- not  all.  It  is  not  enough  to 
say  that  reasoning  is  a  train  of  judgments.  The  judg- 
ments must  be  associated  according  to  some  principle. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  reasoning,  inductive  and  de- 

[182] 


REASONING 

ductive.  Inductive  reasoning  is  reasoning  from  a  par- 
ticular instance  to  a  general  conclusion ;  it  is  generalizing. 
In  inductive  reasoning  we  state  all  we  know  based  on  our 
experiences.  A  child  was  given  cream  to  eat.  It  hap- 
pened that  the  cream  was  a  little  sour.  He  reasoned  in- 
ductively that  all  cream  tasted  sour,  not  liking  it  he  would 
never  taste  cream  again.  Not  until  he  was  a  man  did  he 
discover  that  cream  is  usually  sweet.  He  had  generalized 
from  the  only  experience  he  had. 

In  deductive  reasoning  we  reason  from  the  general 
law  to  a  particular  case.  It  is  an  attempt  to  decide  how 
to  act  by  referring  the  particular  instance  to  a  class  for 
which  we  have  a  general  rule.  The  child  in  the  above 
illustration  had  formed  the  general  rule  that  he  did  not 
like  cream.  Therefore  he  would  never  eat  anything  that 
was  called  cream.  A  is  a  case  of  B.  In  B  situations  we 
always  act  in  a  particular  way,  therefore  we  will  act  that 
way  in  A.  In  either  induction  or  deduction  the  validity 
of  our  reasoning  is  dependent  upon  our  experience  and 
the  corresponding  elaborateness  of  the  neuron  pattern. 

The  inductions  of  undeveloped  mind  are  often  neces- 
sarily erroneous,  as  in  the  above  case  of  the  child  and 
the  cream,  and  often  ludicrous.  A  child  sees  an  animal 
that  is  brown  and  is  told  that  it  is  a  horse ;  he  necessarily 
concludes  that  all  horses  are  brown  because  he  has  no  ex- 
perience of  any  other  colour.  His  neuron  pattern  under- 
lying the  concept  horse  does  not  include  anything  but 
brownness.  Not  until  he  has  had  experience,  either  di- 
rectly or  vicariously,  with  horses  or  other  colours  will  he 
understand  that  the  generalization  that  a  horse  is  always 
brown  is  not  correct,  and  that  his  concept  of  horse  must 
not  be  limited  to  brown  colour. 

Such  mistakes  are  often  ludicrous  from  the  standpoint 

[183] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  one 's  own  superior  knowledge,  that  is,  greater  experi- 
ence; and  yet  they  are  phenomena  of  daily  occurrence 
with  the  most  intelligent  people.  The  story  of  the  Chi- 
nese tailor,  who  was  shown  a  pair  of  European  trousers 
and  was  asked  to  make  a  pair  like  them,  and  who,  seeing 
the  patch  upon  the  sample  trousers,  made  the  new  trous- 
ers with  a  patch,  is  an  amusing  one.  When,  however, 
the  present  writer  sent  to  the  engraver  a  chart  drawn  on 
paper  purposely  cross-ruled  in  blue  lines  because  he  did 
not  wish  the  cross-lines  to  appear  in  the  finished  cut,  and 
the  engraver  carefully  re-drew  the  cross-lines  in  black  and 
returned  the  cut  with  all  the  lines  in,  the  situation  was  not 
humorous,  but  annoying.  Yet  it  was  a  perfectly  natu- 
ral reasoning  on  the  part  of  the  engraver.  Such  expe- 
riences are  of  daily  occurrence  and  perfectly  illustrate 
the  truth  that  one  generalizes  from  his  experience ;  if  the 
experience  is  limited,  the  generalization  is  quite  likely 
to  be  false.  The  feeble-minded  are  continually  making 
errors  of  this  kind.  Jay,  eighteen  years  old,  mentally  8, 
when  asked  what  a  dowel  is,  replied,  "A  piece  of  wood 
you  drill  with."  In  his  wand  drill  at  school  the  wands 
were  long  dowel  sticks  from  the  carpenter  shop.  Jay  had 
worked  in  the  shop  and  knew  these  sticks  as  dowels.  He 
generalized  from  his  experience.  He  had  used  dowels 
to  drill  with  therefore  dowels  are  things  you  drill  with. 
An  imbecile  or  a  normal  child  under  nine  years  of  age 
regularly  defines  common  objects  in  terms  of  use — and 
the  particular  use  that  his  experience  has  taught  him — 
a  fork  is  to  eat  with.  The  scientist  surrounds  himself 
with  certain  rules  or  precautions  so  that  he  may  not  make 
faulty  generalizations.  Even  then  it  is  rare  that  a  man 
publishes  a  work  in  which  he  has  made  generalizations, 
that  some  one  does  not  point  out  errors. 

[184] 


DEDUCTIVE  REASONING 

Inductive  reasoning  is  thus  a  question  of  the  more  or 
les  complete  neuron  pattern,  the  result  of  experience  more 
or  less  extensive.  Deductive  reasoning  on  the  other  hand 
is  more  directly  an  association  between  different  neuron 
patterns.  Let  us  examine  this  statement  further.  De- 
ductive reasoning  is  best  studied  from  taking  its  typical 
logical  form.  This  is  known  as  a  syllogism,  which  is 
made  up  of  three  parts,  the  major  premise,  the  minor 
premise  and  the  conclusion.  The  following  is  a  classical 
syllogism : 

Major  premise — All  men  are  mortal. 
Minor  premise — Socrates  is  a  man. 
Conclusion — Therefore  Socrates  is  mortal. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  major  premise  is  a  generaliza- 
tion and  has  the  same  liability  to  error  that  all  generaliza- 
tions have.  A  person  of  limited  experience  will  make 
some  generalizations  that  are  false,  then  of  course,  his 
conclusion  is  false.  The  child  that  saw  the  snow  for  the 
first  time  really  reasoned  thus:  "All  things  that  look 
like  that  are  sugar,  sugar  is  nice  to  eat,  therefore,  this  is 
nice  to  eat. ' '  The  major  premise  is  thus  a  matter  of  ex- 
perience and  like  all  experience  is  really  an  association 
by  contiguity. 

The  minor  premise,  however,  is  a  case  of  association  by 
similarity.  When  we  say,  Socrates  is  mortal,  we  are,  in 
effect,  saying  he  is  similar  to  other  men  who  have  died, 
therefore  we  substitute,  "Socrates"  for  "all  men"  in  our 
major  premise  and  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Socrates  is 
mortal.  There  is  in  deductive  reasoning  then  the  possi- 
bility of  error  from  imperfect  generalization  in  the  major 
premise,  or  from  mistaken  ideas  of  similarity  in  the 
minor  premise. 

[185] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

Let  us  now  trace  the  course  of  the  nerve  energy  in  a 
case  of  deductive  reasoning. 

A  four  year  old  child  is  brought  in  for  a  diagnosis  of 
his  mentality.  The  examiner  looks  at  him  and  says: 
1  'He  will  be  an  imbecile;  he  will  never  have  more  than 
7  year  mentality."  "Why?"  "Because  he  is  of  the 
Mongolian  type."  Put  in  syllogistic  form  this  would 
stand  thus : 

All  children  of  Mongolian  type  have  a  mentality  of 
7  years  or  less. 

This  child  is  a  Mongolian. 

Therefore  this  child  will  have  a  mentality  of  7  or 
less. 

The  Neuron  Picture. — The  examiner  has  an  elaborate 
neuron  pattern  built  up  from  past  experience  of  associ- 
ations between,  on  the  one  hand,  visual  perceptions  of  a 
face  with  oblique  eyes,  a  head  almost  as  broad  as  it  is  long, 
short  stubby  fingers,  skin  that  shows  poor  circulation, 
weak  eyes  and  sore  eye-lids,  and  the  other  characteristic 
appearances  of  the  Mongolian  type  of  defective ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  a  neuron  pattern  for  the  name  "Mon- 
golian," for  the  concepts  ''imbecile,"  "mental  ages  3 
to  7."  This,  it  will  be  seen,  is  the  neuron  basis  of  our 
major  premise.  All  Mongols  have  a  mentality  of  7  or 
less.  At  sight  of  this  particular  child  the  "oblique 
eyes"  starts  the  above  neuron  pattern  which  may  or 
may  not  be  interrupted  by  a  conscious  judgment  in  the 
form  of  the  minor  premise  "this  child  is  a  Mongolian" 
(is  similar  to  the  type  called  mongol)  and  when  the  pat- 
tern is  completely  aroused  there  is  inevitably  the  con- 
cept "mentality  of  7  or  less"  which  we  have  seen 
is  the  conclusion  of  our  syllogism. 

As  we  have  stated  it,  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish 

[186] 


REASONING  AND  JUDGMENT 

the  process  from  a  judgment,  the  process  being  stimulus 
— Mongol — mentally  3  to  7.  Just  when  the  formal  steps 
of  the  syllogism  will  occur,  seems  to  depend  on  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  neuron  pattern.  If  the  pattern  is 
closely  co-ordinated  as  the  result  of  frequent  use,  the 
process  will  be  so  nearly  simultaneous  as  to  be  in  the 
form  of  a  judgment ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  experience 
has  been  so  limited  that  the  part  of  the  pattern  that  gives 
the  outward  appearance  is  loosely  connected  with  the 
neurons  giving  the  concept  ''Mongol"  and  this  weakly 
connected  with  " mentality  3  to  7  years,"  the  association 
may  be  slow  and  we  get  the  formal  steps.  It  will  show 
in  consicousness  something  as  follows:  "oblique  eyes: 
stubby  fingers :  peculiar  expression  of  countenance :  looks 
a  little  like  a  Mongolian — yes,  he  is  a  Mongolian.  But 
Mongolians  are  never  very  bright — mentality  usually  4, 
sometimes  7,  never  above  that :  therefore  I  can  assert  con- 
fidently that  this  child  who  is  now  only  four  years  old 
will  never  develop  beyond  a  mentality  of  7." 

One  may  even  see  the  process  develop  still  more  slowly. 
Consider  that  the  examiner  calls  in  a  student  and 
says: 

Examiner:  What  do  you  say  about  this  child? 

Student:  Queer  looking  boy. 

E.    Yes,  in  what  way? 

S.     Eyes  are  unusual. 

E.    Yes,  what  else? 

S.    Fingers  are  short;  head  is  queer  shape. 

E.    Well,  what  type  does  he  look  like? 

S.    Is  he  a  Mongolian? 

E.    Well,  what  do  you  think? 

S.    He  looks  like  it. 

E.    Look  at  him  closer. 

[187] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

S.  (After  careful  examination.)  Yes,  I  think  lie  is  a 
Mongol. 

E.    Very  well,  what  does  that  tell  you! 

S.  Why, — let  me  see — Mongols  are  very  affectionate 
and  not  very  trainable. 

E.    Yes,  what  mentality? 

S.    About  4. 

E.    What  is  the  highest? 

S.     7,  I  think. 

E.  Can  you  therefore  say  that  this  child  of  four  years 
is  not  likely  ever  to  have  a  mentality  above  7? 

S.    Yes. 

Here  we  see  the  neuron  patterns  so  incompletely  asso- 
ciated that  the  neurokyme  flows  from  one  to  the  other 
only  after  continual  stimulation  by  the  questions  of  the 
examiner.  If  the  student  were  working  alone  he  would 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  still  more  slowly  and  perhaps 
only  after  considerable  more  experience. 

If  we  follow  the  process  in  the  other  direction  we  may 
find  it  so  rapid  as  to  be  easily  considered  a  perception, 
and  the  expert  may  properly  say  he  perceives  a  Mongol 
of  not  more  than  7  year  mentality. 

Thus  again  perception,  judgment  and  reasoning  are 
seen  to  be  the  same  process,  differing  only  in  the  ease  or 
speed  with  which  the  association  takes  place. 

The  view  of  judgment  and  reasoning  set  forth  in  the 
foregoing  pages  offers  an  easy  explanation  of  the  defect 
in  these  processes  seen  in  the  feeble-minded.  The  most 
common  characterization  of  a  feeble-minded  person  is 
' '  One  who  is  lacking  in  reasoning  or  in  judgment. ' '  Why 
do  they  reason  so  badly?  The  all  embracing  answer  is 
because  they  lack  experience.  We  have  seen  that  experi- 
ence is  fundamental  to  good  judgment  and  reasoning. 

[188] 


THE  REASONING  OF  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

But  the  question  arises,  why  do  they  lack  experience  when 
they  live  in  the  same  world  as  the  rest  of  us?  To  answer 
this  we  must  realize  that  while  they  do  live  in  the  same 
world,  their  environment  does  not  mean  to  them  what  it 
means  to  the  intelligent  person,  because  of  their  weak  as- 
sociations with  their  resulting  incapacity  for  abstractions 
and  generalizations. 

We  have  seen  that  in  inductive  reasoning  the  great 
source  of  error  is  hasty  generalization — generalizing 
from  a  single  experience.  But  the  normal  person  quickly 
makes  a  generalization  from  these  very  facts,  that  is  to 
say,  finding  that  his  generalizations  are  often  incorrect, 
he  forms  the  concept  that  it  is  unsafe  to  generalize  from 
a  few  experiences.  He  therefore  refrains  and  seeks  more 
experiences,  either  direct  or  vicarious,  that  is,  if  he  him- 
self cannot  get  the  experience  he  asks  of  others.  Even 
when  quite  young  the  normal  child  learns  to  do  this,  and 
if  he  sees  a  zebra  for  the  first  time,  may  ask,  "Are  they 
always  striped!"  The  incessant  questioning  of  the 
normal  child  gives  him  information  which  he  uses  in  his 
reasoning.  His  curiosity  leads  him  to  explore  and  get 
a  great  deal  of  direct  experience  which  the  feeble-minded 
child  never  obtains. 

The  feeble-minded  child  is  lacking  in  energy ;  possibly 
his  instinctive  curiosity  is  weak,  altho  the  lack  of  energy 
would  probably  account  for  the  result.  Because  of  that 
lack  he  does  not  ask  so  many  questions,  and  he  does  not 
explore.  This  same  condition  may  account  for  his  not 
seeing  the  similarity  in  things  and  consequently  not  asso- 
ciating where  the  normal  child  does.  When  he  comes  to 
deductive  reasoning  this  error  of  generalization  is  fun- 
damental; his  major  premse  is  apt  to  be  entirely  false. 
But  even  if  he  has  a  true  major  premise,  his  weakness 

[189] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

in  seeing  the  similarity  of  things  results  in  a  failure  to 
formulate  the  minor  premise,  or  he  sees  similarities  that 
are  unimportant  and  not  significant.  Consequently  his 
conclusions  do  not  follow. 

Theodore,  twenty-three  years  old,  mentally  5,  helps  in 
the  poultry  department.  One  day  he  announced  that  he 
had  found  out  how  to  make  a  hen  lay  an  egg.  As  a  result 
of  his  manipulations  several  hens  died.  Killing  the 
goose  that  laid  the  golden  egg  is  typical  feeble-minded 
reasoning. 

A  moron  woman  was  helping  in  the  pantry.  Several 
plates  of  oysters  on  the  shell  came  back  from  the  table 
untouched.  She  promptly  threw  them  into  the  garbage. 
Asked  why  she  did  it,  she  replied,  "  Nobody  seemed  to 
want  them. '  ' 

The  accompanying  picture  speaks  for  itself.  The  let- 
tering on  the  wagon  was  done  by  the  moron  who  stands 
beside  it.  Fig.  44. 

Another  reason  why  the  mental  defective  shows  poor 
judgment  and  reasoning  is  that  his  neuron  patterns  are 
so  simple  that  he  is  unable  to  keep  the  whole  matter  in 
mind  so  as  to  see  the  connection  or  relation  of  the  differ- 
ent parts.  A  low  grade  imbecile  boy  if  asked  whether  he 
is  a  boy  or  a  girl  will  say  "girl,"  not  because  he  thinks  he 
is  a  girl  but  because  he  has  in  mind  only  the  last  word 
said  to  him  and  he  replies  with  that.  If  he  were  asked 
if  snow  was  white  or  black,  he  would  say  " black." 

Even  a  high  grade  moron,  when  told  the  following 
story,  "A  man  walking  in  the  park  suddenly  stopped, 
terrified,  ran  to  the  nearest  police  station,  and  reported 
that  he  had  seen  hanging  from  the  limb  of  a  tree — 
what  f ' '  may  answer,  *  *  A  leaf. ' '  He  has  failed  to  keep  in 
mind  all  the  conditions ;  does  not  see  that  his  answer  does 

[190] 


o> 


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SUMMARY 

not  account  for  the  person  being  terrified  or  for  his  going 
to  the  police  station.  He  has  in  mind  only  the  last  state- 
ment that  was  made,  that  "something  was  hanging  from 
the  limb  of  the  tree.'*  A  moron  under  eleven  years  of 
age  sees  nothing  absurd  if  I  tell  him  "I  have  three 
brothers ;  they  are  John,  Henry  and  myself. ' '  He  is  not 
able  to  hold  the  whole  situation  in  mind  until  the  incon- 
gruity is  felt.  Charles,  a  moron  of  about  8  years'  men- 
tality, was  milking;  the  cow  switched  him  with  her  tail, 
whereupon  he  cut  off  the  hairy  portion  of  the  tail;  and 
he  did  this  not  only  to  the  cow  that  he  was  milking,  but  to 
every  cow  in  the  barn.  This  was  an  impulsive  action  un- 
controlled by  any  reason  or  judgment. 

Summary 

1.  Language  is  an  association  between  objects,  actions 
or  feelings  and  certain  sounds,  visual  symbols  or  tactual 
sensations. 

2.  Animals  have  a  few  such  associations,  hence  they 
have  the  elements  of  language. 

3.  Since  animals  probably  have  as  a  rule  but  one  reac- 
tion to  each  stimulus  they  cannot  properly  be  said  to 
think. 

4.  Words,  names,  are  convenient  symbols  for  experi- 
ences, but  for  them  to  be  of  value  one  must  have  had  the 
experiences. 

5.  Once  the  words  are  established  as  symbols  of  ex- 
periences, they  may  be  associated,  remembered,  etc.,  just 
as  the  original  experience  and  with  a  great  saving  of 
nerve  energy. 

6.  Perception  is  a  realized  (conscious)  relation  between 
two  or  more  sensations,  or  between  a  sensation  and  its 
word  symbol. 

[191] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

7.  Judgment  is  a  realized  (conscious)  relation  between 
two  or  more  perceptions. 

8.  Reasoning  is  a  realized  (conscious)  relation  between 
two  or  more  judgments. 

9.  Inductive  reasoning  is  a  statement  of  experience — a 
generalizing.    Undeveloped    mind    generalizes    from    a 
single  experience — and  must,  nothing  else  is  possible. 

10.  Deductive  reasoning  is  substituting,  by  an  associ- 
ation by  similarity,  a  particular  experience  (or  its  sym- 
bol) for  a  generalized  rule. 

11.  Perception,  judgment  and  reasoning  are  different 
degrees  of  the  same  process. 

12.  Immature  mind  has  difficulty  with  this  process  be- 
cause of  deficient  association  neurons.     His  difficulty  in- 
creases with  the  increasing  complexity  of  the  process :  he 
perceives  badly,  his  judgment  is  worse  and  his  reasoning 
the  poorest  of  all. 


[192] 


CHAPTER  XI 
ACTION 

THE  nervous  system  with  all  its  wonderful  and  elaborate 
mechanism  has  one  function  or  purpose;  viz.:  to  enable 
the  organism  to  act.  Whether  we  consider  the  most 
primitive  nerve  structure  in  the  lowest  animal  in  which 
nerve  substance  has  been  found,  or  the  most  elaborate 
brain  of  the  most  intellectual  man,  it  is  the  same.  To 
facilitate  action  is  the  end  and  aim  of  all  nerve  structure 
— of  all  the  processes  that  go  to  make  up  what  we  call 
mind.  The  sensations,  the  perceptions,  the  ideas,  the  at- 
tention, the  memory,  the  judgment,  the  reason,  the  imag- 
ination, all  are  processes  that  exist  not  for  their  own 
sake  but  purely  and  solely  for  action.  The  actions  which 
stimuli  produce  vary  in  complexity  according  to  (1)  the 
complexity  and  (2)  the  use  made  of  the  nervous  system. 
In  other  words,  the  perfection  of  action  depends  upon  the 
elaborateness  of  the  neuron  pattern  which  in  turn  is  the 
result  of  (1)  inheritance  and  (2)  the  experience  of  the 
individual. 

The  simplest  action  is  the  reflex  already  described, 
where  a  stimulus  arouses  the  simplest  type  of  neuron 
pattern  and  leads  directly  to  muscular  action,  without 
delay  or  interference.  These  reflex  arcs  are  found  thru- 
out  the  nerve  mechanism,  especially  in  the  spinal  cord  and 
in  the  sympathetic  system.  There  are  great  numbers  of 
them  and  they  play  a  very  important  part  in  the  vegeta- 
tive functions — the  life  processes. 

Next  is  instinctive  action,  already  described  and  prob- 

[193] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ably  differing  in  no  way  from  reflex  except  that  it  involves 
a  somewhat  more  extensive  neuron  pattern,  and  may  be 
accompanied  by  consciousness. 

Impulsive  action  or  conscious  reflex,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  differs  from  reflex  and  instinctive  action  in  that 
the  neuron  pattern  underlying  it  is  not  inherited,  but  is 
acquired.  When  this  pattern  is  once  acquired,  however, 
the  stimulus  leads  to  its  action  without  any  interruption 
or  interference. 

Impulsive  action  is  characteristic  of  childhood  and  of 
undeveloped  mind  but  is  also  common  in  adult  life.  If  a 
child,  having  a  stone  in  his  hand,  sees  a  glass  window  and 
the  thot  of  breaking  the  window  comes  to  him,  he  throws 
the  stone ;  or  it  may  be  it  is  a  penny  and  he  has  the  im- 
pulse to  give  it  to  a  beggar  and  he  hands  it  to  him.  A 
man,  standing  on  a  station  platform  intending  to  take  a 
train,  suddenly  discovers  that  the  train  is  moving  away. 
He  has  an  impulse  to  run  and  jump  on  the  train.  Im- 
pulsive action  has  been  described  as  an  action  following  a 
single  idea. 

The  most  complex  of  all  is  volitional  action,  commonly 
described  as  action  in  response  to  thot,  judgment,  will. 
It  is  preceded  by  a  state  of  deliberation  (literally  a 
weighing  of  the  inducements).  It  is  an  action  that  one 
deliberately  thinks  of  and  decides  to  do.  It  is  an  action 
that  is  the  final  result  of  a  conflict  between  two  or  more 
ideas  (or  between  a  perception  and  an  idea).  It  is  a  sub- 
stitute for  an  impulsive  action.  The  man  who  has  the  im- 
pulse to  run  and  catch  the  train  will  so  act  if  no  other  thot 
comes  to  his  mind ;  but  if  it  occurs  to  him  that  he  may  fall 
and  get  killed,  then  there  is  a  conflict ;  and  it  has  to  be  de- 
cided which  idea  he  will  follow.  If  the  first  idea  wins 
he  will  run  after  the  train,  if  the  second  one  wins  he  will 

[194] 


VOLITIONAL  ACTION 

stop.  It  is  a  thoroly  conscious  action,  indeed  it  is  charac- 
terized by  the  fact  that  the  attention  is  held  now  upon  this 
phase  and  now  upon  that. 

Viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  the  brain  activity,  voli- 
tional action  is  the  most  complex  of  all  actions  and  gives 
us  the  most  complex,  elaborate  and  interesting  picture 
of  nerve  action  that  can  be  imagined.  As  our  example 
would  indicate,  it  is  as  tho  one  had  two  impulses  leading 
to  actions  that  are  contradictory  and  cannot  both  be  per- 
formed. Therefore,  there  is  a  conflict.  Which  one  will 
win  depends  upon  several  factors.  First,  it  is  a  question 
of  the  elaborateness  of  the  first  neuron  pattern — the  one 
that  would  have  led  to  impulsive  action  if  the  second  idea 
had  not  appeared.  Second,  it  depends  upon  how  fre- 
quently one  has  acted  in  accordance  with  either  one  of 
the  ideas.  Third,  upon  how  recently  he  may  have  acted 
upon  either  one.  Fourth,  it  depends  upon  the  emotional 
content, — that  is,  the  result  and  emotional  tone  of  a  pre- 
vious action  along  the  same  line.  Consider  these  in  turn. 

First,  the  elaborateness  of  the  neuron  pattern.  This 
may  indeed  be  so  simple  that  no  volitional  action  is  pos- 
sible, that  is  to  say,  it  is  only  impulsive.  The  child  seeing 
the  train  start  would  undoubtedly  jump  upon  it  im- 
pulsively. He  has  had  no  experience  that  has  developed 
an  elaborate  neuron  pattern  such  as  includes  the  possible 
danger.  The  man's  pattern,  however,  includes,  in  a 
vague  sort  of  way,  the  fact  that  people  are  sometimes 
killed  from  trying  to  jump  on  moving  trains.  But  he  has 
frequently  done  so  and  never  met  with  an  accident,  there- 
fore he  makes  the  attempt.  Or  it  may  be  that  his  neuron 
pattern  includes  a  very  elaborate  picture  of  some  one  fall- 
ing under  a  train  and  being  killed.  In  that  case  he  hesi- 
tates and  perhaps  refrains.  But  his  pattern  may,  besides 

[195] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

this  vivid  picture,  include  a  vivid  picture  of  the  necessity 
of  his  taking  the  train.  His  business  will  suffer,  there  is 
no  other  way  he  can  get  to  where  he  wishes  to  go ;  he  has 
promised  to  arrive  on  that  train  and  he  never  breaks  his 
promise — and  so  on  almost  without  limit. 

Frequency  of  action  comes  in  either  for  or  against  his 
first  impulse.  If  he  has  frequently  jumped  on  trains  and 
never  had  an  accident,  that  fact  will  be  a  powerful  in- 
centive to  do  the  same  thing  again.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  has  seldom  acted  in  this  way  but  on  the  contrary  has 
frequently  let  trains  go  and  leave  him,  then  the  probabil- 
ity is  strong  that  he  will  act  the  same  way  now.  It  may 
be  that  without  any  direct  experience  himself  he  has  read 
or  known  of  a  great  many  people  who  have  been  injured 
by  attempting  to  board  moving  trains.  If  that  phase  of 
the  neuron  pattern  develops,  it  in  turn  will  be  a  strong 
deterrent  to  his  boarding  the  train. 

Recency  plays  a  similar  role.  It  may  be  that  he  has 
usually  refrained  from  boarding  a  moving  train,  but  yes- 
terday he  jumped  the  train  with  satisfactory  result; 
there  will  be  a  strong  tendency  for  him  to  do  the  same  to- 
day. Because  the  neurokyme  has  so  recently  flowed 
into  the  pattern  leading  to  that  action,  it  now  flows  more 
easily  there  than  elsewhere.  On  the  other  hand,  he  may 
have  frequently  boarded  moving  trains  but  has  very 
recently  learned  of  some  one  who  had  an  accident  from 
such  procedure;  therefore  that  phase  of  his  nerve  pat- 
tern, having  been  recently  stimulated,  may  now  deter- 
mine the  result. 

Finally  the  emotional  accompaniment  to  the  situation, 
the  pleasantness  or  unpleasantness  accompanying  either 
line  of  action,  will  have  a  strong  determining  influence 
in  solving  the  problem.  If  the  overflow  of  nerve  action 

[196] 


from  the  sympathetic  system  is  of  a  pleasant  nature,  it 
augments  the  flow  of  energy  thru  the  nerve  pattern  that 
leads  to  the  action.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  emotional 
content  relating  to  either  act  is  unpleasant,  we  may  have 
an  inhibitory  action  of  the  sympathetic,  whereby  the  path 
to  that  action  is  blocked.  James  says  one  of  the  most 
interesting  discoveries  of  physiology  was  the  discovery  of 
nerves  of  arrest.  The  pneumogastric  nerve,  for  example, 
when  stimulated  arrests  the  movements  of  the  heart,  the 
splanchnic  nerve  arrests  those  of  the  intestines.  That 
this  inhibitive  action  may  overflow  to  the  motor  neurons 
of  the  central  system  is  quite  possible.  If  so,  we  have 
an  explanation  of  the  "blocking"of  these  paths. 

A  distinction  has  sometimes  been  made  between  decid- 
ing to  act  or  not  to  act  and  deciding  which  of  two  acts  to 
do.  Inasmuch  as  deciding  not  to  act  is  in  reality  decid- 
ing to  continue  to  do  what  one  had  been  doing,  it  all  re- 
solves itself  to  do  the  same  thing  psychologically.  The 
process  is  not  different  if,  instead  of  there  being  two  al- 
ternatives, there  are  many.  The  same  factors  enter  into 
the  determination. 

It  is  customary  to  call  the  state  of  mind  that  one  is  in 
before  he  finally  acts  in  such  case  a  state  of  deliberation. 
The  term  is  convenient  and  without  objection  except  in  so 
far  as  it  seems -to  imply  an  ego,  an  "7,"  that  does  the  de- 
liberating. Much  time  has  been  wasted  trying  to  dis- 
cover what  we  do  when  we  deliberate,  and  how  we  finally 
choose.  While  the  process  in  any  particular  case  is  enor- 
mously complicated  and  involves  such  a  complex  neuron 
pattern  that  no  one  can  follow  it,  yet  the  general  plan  is 
simple. 

^hat  happens  when  we  deliberate  seems  to  be  that  the 
nerve  energy  started  by  the  original  stimulus  is,  because 

[197] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  the  elaborateness  of  the  neuron  pattern  and  the 
other  factors  that  we  have  spoken  of,  delayed  in  its  flow 
and  does  not  lead  promptly  to  the  motor  paths  which 
would  result  in  action  in  one  direction  or  the  other. 

In  other  words,  in  deliberation  we  are  in  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  case  inactive  until  the  neurokyme  finds  its 
outlet  over  a  motor  path  in  accordance  with  the  conditions 
that  we  have  described.  Since  consciousness  accom- 
panies the  passage  of  the  neurokyme  into  each  part  of  the 
pattern,  even  those  that  do  not  lead  to  action,  it  is  inevit- 
able that  we  should  feel  that  we  are  directing  the  process, 
rejecting  one  idea  after  another  until  we  finally  choose 
the  right  one — the  one  that  actually  leads  to  the  action. 

It  may  contribute  to  our  understanding  of  how  helpless 
we  are,  to  recall  some  of  those  instances  where  we  cannot 
decide,  tho  our  will  to  do  so  is  strong.  The  following 
from  David  Ha  rum  is  typical: 

Julius.    Which  soup  should  I  take? 

Mary.    I  should  say  the  consomme. 

Julius.    I  thought  I  should  like  the  broth  better. 

Mary.    I  don 't  think  it  will  disagree  with  you. 

Julius.  Perhaps  I  had  better  have  the  consomme. 
Which  would  you  take,  Mary? 

Mary.    I  prescribe  champagne  for  you,  Julius. 

Julius.  Don't  you  think  a  red  wine  would  be  better  for 
me,  or  perhaps  some  sauterne?  I'm  afraid  I  sha'n't 
sleep  if  I  drink  champagne.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  I 
had  better  take  any  wine.  Perhaps  some  ginger  ale  or 
Apollinaris  water. 

Still  better  is  Mary's  description  of  Julius'  struggle 
with  the  shoes : 

[198] 


OVER  INHIBITION 

"When  I  went  back  to  the  room  I  found  my  brother-in- 
law  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  lounge,  or  what  you  call  it, 
all  dressed  but  his  coat,  rubbing  his  chin  between  his 
finger  and  thumb,  and  gazing  with  despairing  perplexity 
at  his  feet.  It  seems  that  my  sister  had  got  past  all  the 
other  dilemmas,  but  in  a  moment  of  inadvertence  had 
left  the  shoe  question  to  him,  with  the  result  that  he  had 
put  on  one  russet  shoe  and  one  black  one,  and  had  laced 
them  up  before  discovering  the  discrepancy. 

"His  first  notion  was  to  take  off  both  shoes  and  begin 
all  over  again,  and  perhaps  if  he  had  been  allowed  to 
carry  it  out  he  would  have  been  all  right;  but  Alice  was 
silly  enough  to  suggest  the  obvious  thing  to  him — to  take 
off  one,  and  put  on  the  mate  to  the  other — and  then  the 
trouble  began.  First  he  was  in  favour  of  the  black  shoes 
as  being  thicker  in  the  sole,  and  then  he  reflected  that 
they  hadn't  been  blackened  since  coming  on  board.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  the  russets  were  more  appropriate 
anyway,  but  the  blacks  were  easier  to  lace.  Had  I  noticed 
whether  the  men  on  board  were  wearing  russet  or  black  as 
a  rule,  and  did  Alice  remember  whether  it  was  one  of  the 
russets  or  one  of  the  blacks  that  he  was  saying  the  other 
day  pinched  his  toe  f  He  didn  't  quite  like  the  looks  of  a 
russet  shoe  with  dark  trousers,  and  called  us  to  witness 
that  those  he  had  on  were  dark;  but  he  thot  he  remem- 
bered that  it  was  the  black  shoe  that  pinched  him.  He 
supposed  he  could  change  his  trousers — and  so  on,  and 
so  on,  al  fine,  de  capo,  ad  lib,,  sticking  out  first  one  foot 
and  then  the  other,  lifting  them  alternately  to  his  knee 
for  scrutiny,  appealing  now  to  Alice  and  now  to  me,  and 
getting  more  hopelessly  bewildered  all  the  time.  It 
went  on  that  way  for,  it  seemed  to  me,  at  least  half  an 
hour,  and  at  last  I  said,  'Oh,  come  now,  Julius,  take  off 

[199] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  brown  shoe — it's  too  thin,  and  doesn't  go  with  your 
dark  trousers,  and  pinches  your  toe,  and  none  of  the 
men  are  wearing  them — and  just  put  on  the  other  black 
one,  and  come  along.  We're  all  suffocating  for  some 
fresh  air,  and  if  you  don't  get  started  pretty  soon  we 
sha'n't  get  on  deck  today.'  'Get  on  deck!'  he  said, 
looking  up  at  me  with  a  puzzled  expression,  and  holding 
fast  to  the  brown  shoe  on  his  knee  with  both  hands,  as 
if  he  were  afraid  I  would  take  it  away  from  him  by  main 
strength — 'get  on  deck!  Why — why — I  believe  I'd  bet- 
ter not  go  out  this  morning,  don't  you?' 

Julius  belongs  to  what  James  has  called  the  "over  in- 
hibited type,"  his  neuron  patterns  are  incomplete  because 
they  do  not  lead  to  action.  It  were  better  that  he  act 
wrongly  half  the  time  than  never  to  act  at  all. 

Let  us  try  to  diagram  Julius'  state  of  mind,  assuming 
that  the  shoe  incident  were  a  part  of  his  preparation  for 
breakfast. 

First,  hunger  arouses  the  instinct  to  eat.  Had  it  been 
possible  (food  at  hand),  Julius  might  have  instinctively 
satisfied  his  hunger  (short  circuit  A,  Fig.  45)  but  since 
he  must  go  in  search  of  food,  acquired  habits  prompted 
him  to  dress  (longer  circuit  B,  Fig.  45).  If  he  had  had 
good  habits  of  action  he  would  have  dressed  promptly 
and  gone  where  he  could  have  eaten.  But  not  having 
fixed  habits  in  relation  to  dressing,  every  step  was  a 
conscious  one.  When  he  came  to  shoes,  for  example,  he 
had  two  kinds,  tan  and  black.  Here  habit  did  rule  for 
a  time  and  he  automatically  laced  his  shoes  without  be- 
ing conscious  that  he  had  put  on  one  black  and  one  tan. 
When  he  was  once  conscious  of  the  two  alternatives,  a 
decision  must  be  arrived  at  (Diagram  C,  Fig.  45).  Again 

[200] 


Fig.  45.  Scheme  to  illustrate  possible  neuron  connections  in  in- 
stinctive, automatic  and  deliberative  action.  A.  Short  circuit 
instinctive  action :  Hungry — Eat.  B.  Longer  circuit  auto- 
matic action :  Hungry — dress — eat.  C.  Deliberative  action  : 
"Tan  shoes  or  black  shoes"  which?  Black  shoes  pattern  re- 
inforced by  idea  of  dark  trousers.  Tan  shoes  reinforced  by 
idea  that  tan  are  more  "appropriate"  than  the  black.  No  so- 
lution is  indicated.  One  or  the  other  would  finally  connect  up 
with  the  "dressing"  pattern.  N.B.  A  single  neuron  is  taken 
to  symbolize  a  whole  idea  or  neuron  pattern. 


WEAK  WILL 

if  he  had  had  a  fixed  habit  of  wearing  black  shoes  with 
dark  trousers,  the  neurokyme  would  have  flowed  freely 
in  that  direction;  or  had  the  black  shoes  pinched  his 
feet  so  severely  that  action  in  that  direction  was  blocked 
he  would  have  put  on  the  tan.  Similarly  the  other 
things  that  came  to  mind  should  have  re-enforced  one 
path  or  the  other  sufficiently  to  lead  to  action.  But  he 
had  a  habit  of  inaction,  hence  his  dilemma  was  not 
solved.  We  can  predict  that  it  was  solved  finally  by  one 
of  two  methods:  either  (1)  some  overwhelmingly  strong 
stimulus  (argument)  forced  action  in  one  neuron  pattern 
or  in  the  other;  or  (2)  consciousness  was  entirely  diverted 
by  some  extraneous  circumstance  (wholly  new  pattern 
aroused),  with  the  result  that  when  he  came  back 
to  " shoes"  he  automatically  put  on  one  pair  or  the 
other. 

Volitional  action  or  will  is  a  matter  of  the  neuron 
patterns,  which  in  turn  is  a  matter  of  inheritance  plus 
experience.  Prof.  James  has  stated  the  same  thing  in 
different  form  when  he  says  that  "the  elements  of  will 
are  ideas,  habit  of  attention  and  habit  of  action."  The 
ideas  are  the  organized  consciousness  that  comes  from 
the  neuron  pattern.  Habit  of  attention  means  that  the 
neuron  pattern  involved  in  the  situation  holds  the  centre 
of  consciousness.  Habit  of  action  means  that  the 
neurokyme  has  a  definite  pathway  over  which  it  passes 
into  the  motor  side,  leading  to  action.  The  absence  or 
weakness  of  any  of  these  elements  results  in  lack  or  weak- 
ness of  will. 

Many  familiar  facts  are  intelligible  if  this  view  is  ap- 
preciated. For  example,  a  man  is  always  weak  willed, 
that  is,  slow  to  action,  in  directions  where  he  has  no  ideas. 
For  example,  I  find  my  house  has  been  robbed.  I  want  to 

[201] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

catch  the  thief  and  secure  my  property,  but  the  days  and 
weeks  and  months  go  by  and  I  do  nothing.  Why?  Be- 
cause, having  no  experience  in  the  work  of  a  detective,  I 
have  no  ideas  of  how  to  proceed.  The  neuron  pattern 
underlying  the  process  of  catching  the  thief  has  never 
been  developed  in  my  brain.  The  thot  of  my  stolen 
goods  arouses  a  very  simple  pattern  about  a  thief  and 
the  possibility  of  catching  him.  If  I  could  see  him  I 
would  seize  him,  but  that  is  about  the  limit  of  my  experi- 
ence in  such  matters.  Therefore,  altho  I  may  be  known 
as  a  man  of  action,  as  strong  willed,  as  full  of  ingenuity 
and  efficiency  and  what-not,  nevertheless  in  this  particu- 
lar matter  I  manifest  weak  will. 

James's  expression,  that  the  result  is  determined  by  the 
amount  of  voluntary  attention  that  one  can  exert  in  hold- 
ing to  the  right  ideas,  is  of  course  a  question  of  the  as- 
sociated neuron  paths.  Voluntary  attention  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  matter  of  neuron  patterns  formed  by  experi- 
ence, so  that  if  one  has  an  idea  of  acting  in  a  certain  di- 
rection he  can  keep  that  idea  in  attention  only  as  the  re- 
sult of  having  a  good  many  associations  which  will  con- 
stantly bring  up  that  idea.  A  man  may  form  a  very 
definite  idea  of  building  a  fence  around  his  lot.  If  the 
neuron  pattern  underlying  the  idea  of  building  the  fence 
is  connected  in  his  brain  with  enough  neuron  patterns 
so  that  some  one  of  them  will  be  continually  aroused,  now 
by  one  circumstance  and  now  by  another,  he  will  prob- 
ably be  able  to  keep  his  attention  on  the  idea  of  building 
the  fence  until  it  is  done,  provided  he  is  able  to  get  it  done 
within  a  reasonable  length  of  time.  This  latter  is  an 
important  point.  Many  times  one  keeps  a  certain  line 
of  action  in  mind  for  considerable  period  of  time,  but,  if 
he  is  baffled  in  his  effort  to  put  in  into  execution,  after 

[202] 


STRONG  WILL  AND  WEAK  WILL 

a  while  circumstances  of  life  force  other  matters  into  con- 
sciousness and  this  line  of  action  is  forgotten. 

This  brings  us  naturally  to  the  third  clause  of  James's 
statement — :the  "  several  habits  of  acting  definitely  on 
these  ideas  to  which  they  have  been  successfully  trained. ' ' 
A  man  may  have  a  very  definite  idea  about  building  a 
fence,  he  may  keep  that  idea  before  himself  constantly 
and  day  after  day  repeat  to  himself  that  he  is  going 
to  build  the  fence,  but  if  he  is  not  a  man  of  action,  and 
especially  if  he  is  not  in  the  habit  of  attending  to  such 
things  as  building  fences,  the  probabilities  are  that  he 
will  build  no  fence  and  in  that  particular  at  least  will  be 
weak  willed. 

This  view  also  solves  the  difficulty  we  get  into  when 
we  attempt  to  classify  ourselves  or  others  as  persons  of 
strong  will  or  weak  will.  If  we  do  not  make  a  snap  judg- 
ment and  decide  upon  a  single  experience  we  are  very 
apt  to  find  ourselves  saying,  "He  generally  does  what 
he  sets  out  to  do,  still  there  was  that  matter  that  he  said 
he  was  going  to  do;  there  was  that  other  matter  that 
he  really  ought  to  have  done ;  there  is  something  else  he 
has  fallen  down  on."  Can  we  say  he  is  a  man  of  strong 
will  when  there  are  several  things  of  this  kind  that  he 
does  not  accomplish?  It  will  be  found  that,  if  we  could 
analyse  his  consciousness,  we  would  find  that  in  each  of 
those  instances  he  was  lacking  either  in  ideas  or  atten- 
tion or  action. 

It  is,  therefore,  impossible  to  say  that  one  has  a 
"strong  will"  or  "weak  will"  unless  we  are  speaking  in 
very  general  terms,  which  in  the  end  could  only  mean 
that,  on  the  one  hand,  he  is  a  man  of  ideas  and  a  man 
of  action  and  usually  carries  out  what  occurs  to  him  to 
do;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  has  few  ideas  or  so 

[203] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

many  interests  that  he  cannot  keep  his  attention  upon 
any  one  very  long,  or  that  he  is  not  in  the  habit  of  act- 
ing, or  that  sometimes  one  and  sometimes  another  of 
these  lacks  interferes  with  execution,  so  that  on  the  whole 
he  is  considered  a  majt  who  does  not  often  carry  out  his 
determination. 

There  is  undoubtedly  another  element  in  volitional  ac- 
tion which  has  been  perhaps  too  little  considered,  that  is 
the  emotional  content  of  the  experience.  We  have  al- 
ready stated  that  it  seems  highly  probable  that  every 
stimulus  which  starts  activity  in  a  sensory  neuron  sends 
a  part  of  its  energy  into  the  sympathetic  system,  which 
energy  returns  more  or  less  re-enforced  and  adds  some- 
thing which  we  call  an  element  of  feeling  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  results  directly  from  the  stimulus.  If 
the  return  element  is  moderate,  it  gives  rise  to  a  mild 
feeling  of  pleasure  or  displeasure;  if  it  is  intense,  then 
we  have  the  emotion.  This  affective  element  seems  to 
play  a  real  part  in  the  whole  question  of  volitional  action. 
In  considering  a  particular  line  of  action  the  neuron  pat- 
tern may  be  elaborate  and  complete,  one's  attention  may 
hold  strongly  and  one  may  have  the  habit  of  action  suffi- 
cient to  perform  the  volitional  act.  Indeed  one  may  have 
performed  similar  acts  many  times.  But  now  there 
comes  in  the  consciousness  of  unpleasant  consequences, 
or  a  definite  feeling  of  discomfort.  Such  affective  con- 
sciousnsss  very  seriously  deters  one  from  carrying  out 
the  action. 

On  the  other  hand  the  feeling  may  be  pleasant;  even 
arising  to  a  strong  emotion,  in  which  case  the  action  will 
be  performed  with  unusual  and  perhaps  unnecessary 
vigour.  All  the  possible  degrees  and  combinations  of 
this  influence  of  the  affective  state  are  met  with.  One 

[204] 


THE  WEAK  WILL  OF  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

sometimes  sees  an  angry  man,  who  desires  to  attack  his 
opponent  but  is  restrained  by  argument  or  by  force,  make 
repeated  efforts  to  accomplish  his  purpose,  seemingly 
stimulated  thereto  each  time  by  a  fresh  wave  of  emotion ; 
and  one  can  easily  imagine  a  new  flow  of  energy  from 
the  sympathetic  system  as  each  new  outbreak  appears. 

We  have  so  far  drawn  our  examples  and  illustrations 
from  the  normal  adult,  but  the  one  source  of  data  which 
is  most  convincing  is  found  in  persons  of  immature  mind 
and  particularly  the  feeble-minded.  They  are  so  notori- 
ously lacking  in  will  power  that  we  sometimes  reason 
in  the  other  direction,  and  when  we  find  a  person  of  ex- 
ceptionally weak  will  we  are  apt  to  conclude  that  he  is 
feeble-minded. 

The  reason  for  the  weak  volitional  action  of  the  feeble- 
minded will  be  clear  from  what  has  already  been  said. 
They  lack  ideas,  that  is,  elaborate  neuron  patterns,  con- 
sequently they  lack  the  power  of  acquired  attention ;  and 
they  lack  action,  partly  because  they  are  naturally  lack- 
ing in  energy,  and  partly  because  their  habits  of  action 
are  few  and  limited. 

One  of  the  facts  about  morons,  so  characteristic  that 
it  is  helpfully  diagnostic,  is  their  inability  to  hold  a  job. 

Every  intelligent  person  knows  that  there  are  very 
few  occupations  in  which  one  does  not  at  times  have  to 
exert  all  his  reason  and  judgment  and  will-power  to  make 
himself  keep  at  work.  The  intelligent  man  keeps  at  work 
because  he  is  able  to  appreciate  more  or  less  thoroly  the 
whole  situation  and  to  realize  that  in  every  occupation 
there  are  hardships  that  have  to  be  borne.  The  weak 
minded  do  not  have  this  foresight — these  larger  ideas — 
and  consequently  give  up  the  job  upon  the  slightest  prov- 
ocation. It  may  be  a  word  of  correction  from  the  over- 

[205] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

seer;  it  may  be  a  physical  condition  which  makes  the 
work  of  the  day  seem  unusually  arduous;  it  may  be  the 
attraction  of  some  other  job,  or  any  one  of  scores 
of  things  which  do  not  affect  the  normally  intelligent 
man  but  will  induce  the  weak  minded  to  leave  the 
work. 

This  applies  not  only  to  the  job  that  one  is  employed 
to  do,  but,  with  younger  persons  especially,  it  applies 
even  to  the  task  in  hand.  Every  teacher  or  trainer  of 
the  backward  or  defective  child  knows  that  if  the  task 
is  a  little  long  or  a  little  monotonous  it  requires  an  im- 
mense amount  of  encouragement  to  keep  the  child  at  it 
and  sometimes  even  the  strongest  inducements  fail.  And 
the  successful  teacher  knows  also  that  the  most  success- 
ful handling  of  such  cases  consists  in  hitting  upon  an 
effective  inducement,  that  is  to  say,  in  enlarging  the 
child's  stock  of  ideas  and  in  keeping  these  ideas  in  his 
consciousness  until  the  action  is  completed.  Sometimes 
a  single  new  thot  suggested  by  the  teacher  is  sufficient 
to  keep  the  child  at  his  work  until  it  is  finished. 

It  will  perhaps  occur  to  the  reader  that  there  are 
many  weak  minded  people  who  go  plodding  on,  day  after 
day,  and  year  after  year  at  the  same  job  of  drudgery  with 
never  a  complaint  and  never  a  suggestion  of  quitting. 
It  will  be  found  that  these  are  usually  cases  either  of 
very  weak  emotion;  or  of  very  strong  habit,  if  the  job  is 
one  that  the  person  has  worked  at  for  a  long  time  (as 
in  exceptional  cases  does  occur  even  with  the  feeble- 
minded) and  his  habit  of  action  keeps  him  at  it.  So 
that  in  reality  these  apparent  exceptions  only  prove  the 
correctness  of  this  view.  Professor  James  (28  p.  187) 
has  summed  this  all  up  and  connects  it  with  what  we 
have  already  studied  by  the  statement,  "To  think,  in 

[206] 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL 

short,  is  the  secret  of  will  just  as  it  is  the  secret  of 
memory." 

An  objection  is  frequently  raised  to  the  view  that  we 
have  presented,  that  it  makes  man  a  slave  to  his  neuron 
patterns,  whereas  every  one  knows  that  he  can  determine 
his  own  action,  that  if  he  acts  in  one  way  he  knows  that 
he  could  have  acted  in  the  opposite.  It  is  probably  very 
natural  that  this  feeling  should  arise  and  yet  it  is  alto- 
gether possible  that  it  is  a  complete  delusion.  The  fact 
is,  that  while  we  have  attempted  to  simplify  the  process 
for  the  sake  of  a  working  conception,  yet  in  reality  it  is 
so  enormously  complicated  that  we  inevitably  lose  our- 
selves in  the  mazes ;  and  not  being  able  to  follow  in  detail 
the  workings  of  this  marvellously  intricate  mechanism  of 
the  nervous  system  we  give  up  in  despair  and  cut  the 
Gordian  knot  by  weakly  assuming  a  mystical  something 
which  we  call  the  will  as  the  power  which  we  use  in  these 
cases.  Thus  we  think  we  have  solved  the  problem. 

This  procedure  differs  only  in  degree  from  that  of  the 
uncivilized  Indian  who  could  not  understand  the  eclipse 
of  the  sun  and  assumed  the  presence  of  a  powerful  animal 
that  was  eating  it  up.  It  is  not  a  scientific  procedure, 
we  really  have  no  right  to  expect  to  understand  this 
matter  thoroly  because  the  thing  we  are  trying  to  under- 
stand is  the  very  tiling  that  we  understand  with.  We 
are  in  the  same  difficulty  as  the  poet  that  cried,  "Oh  wad 
some  power  the  giftie  gie  us  to  see  ourselves  as  ithers 
see  us."  We  cannot  see  ourselves,  because  it  is  we  our- 
selves who  are  trying  to  do  the  seeing.  The  eye  cannot 
see  itself.  There  are,  however,  other  people  acting  be- 
sides ourselves  and  we  ought  to  be  able  to  understand 
their  action  if  not  our  own. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  when  we  look  at  the  action 

[207] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  other  people  we  are  much  more  inclined  to  admit  that 
they  could  not  act  differently  than  they  do.  In  fact  when 
we  do  not  admit  it,  it  is  because  we  carry  over  to  them 
our  own  feeling;  we  know  we  can  act  as  we  wish,  there- 
fore they  can  do  the  same.  It  is  true,  we  do  this  to  a 
large  extent,  nevertheless  we  often  do  admit  that  others 
are  the  victims  of  circumstances — the  slaves  of  their  en- 
vironment. We  are  quite  accustomed  to  think  of  children 
in  this  way  and  especially  of  the  feeble-minded. 

Automatic  Action.  We  have  already  alluded  to  auto- 
matic action  and  we  are  now  in  a  position  to  understand 
clearly  what  it  is.  In  discussing  volitional  action  we  said 
that  the  stimulus  which,  if  unimpeded,  would  naturally 
result  in  an  impulsive  action,  is  opposed  by  an  idea  which 
of  itself  would  lead  to  a  different  action.  We  have 
also  seen  that  in  such  a  case  no  action  is  possible 
until  the  nerve  energy  has  found  an  outlet  by  following 
the  neuron  patterns  that  have  already  been  worked  out 
thru  experience.  Now,  such  a  pattern  once  having  been 
followed  by  the  nerve  energy  will  be  followed  again  and 
the  second  time  naturally  more  quickly  and  easily,  and 
still  more  quickly  and  easily  upon  later  occasions;  so 
that  ultimately  this  new  path  becomes  as  quickly  and 
promptly  followed  as  that  of  an  impulsive  action  or  an 
instinctive  action  or  even  a  pure  reflex. 

Stated  in  more  popular  language,  this  says  that  once 
we  have  decided  a  question  and  acted  in  a  certain  way, 
the  next  time  the  question  comes  up  we  do  not  deliberate 
but  act  as  we  did  before.  We  do  not  go  thru  the  labour 
of  deciding  it  again.  Such  an  action  is  called  automatic. 
A  single  illustration  will  be  sufficient.  Suppose  one  lives 
in  a,  city  with  the  streets  laid  out  at  right  angles;  the 
Post  Office  to  which  he  goes  daily  is,  let  us  say,  three 

[208] 


blocks  east  and  four  blocks  south ;  there  are  consequently 
a  large  number  of  different  ways  that  he  can  get  from  his 
home  to  the  Post  Office.  The  distance  will  be  the  same 
by  all  routes.  Several  of  them  are  equally  interesting 
and  satisfactory.  The  first  time  he  goes  from  his  house 
to  the  Post  Office  he  has  to  decide  which  way  he  will  go. 
But  having  decided  and  gone  a  particular  way,  the  next 
day  he  will  probably  go  the  same  way ;  and  if  so,  the  third 
day  and  upon  all  later  occasions  he  follows  that  route 
without  the  slightest  deliberation,  without  even  being  con- 
scious of  where  he  has  gone  and  we  say  commonly  and 
correctly,  he  has  gone  automatically. 

It  may  be  well  to  note  that  at  any  time  something  may 
occur  to  raise  the  question  again  and  something  may 
determine  him  to  go  by  a  different  route,  in  which  case 
the  action  again  becomes  volitional  only  again  to  be  re- 
duced to  an  automatic  action.  It  may  also  be  pointed 
out  that  the  liability  of  the  question  having  to  be  decided 
a  second  time  depends  upon  attention,  reason,  judgment, 
which  in  the  last  analysis  is  experience — an  elaborate 
neuron  pattern. 

In  automatic  action  immature  mind  is  sharply  differ- 
entiated from  mature  mind.  The  feeble-minded  person, 
having  a  habit  fixed  upon  him,  changes  the  habit  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  if  at  all.  The  feeble-minded  man  who 
had  gone  to  the  Post  Office  by  a  particular  route  would 
continue  to  go  by  that  route,  tho  it  were  flooded  and  he 
had  to  wade  thru  ice-water.  This  shows  constantly  in 
the  training  of  such  a  person.  Having  been  trained  to 
do  a  thing  in  a  particular  way,  he  will  continue  to  do  it 
that  way  even  when  conditions  are  changed  and  to  the 
intelligent  mind  the  fact  is  most  obvious  that  it  should 
be  done  differently. 

[209] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

This  is  at  once  the  strength  and  weakness  of  the  feeble- 
minded. With  the  limitations  that  they  have,  it  is  ex- 
tremely fortunate  that  we  can  train  them  to  certain  lines 
of  action  and  be  sure  that  once  trained  they  will  follow 
those  same  lines.  On  the  other  hand,  circumstances  are 
always  liable  to  occur  which  make  it  desirable,  and  often 
imperative,  that  a  variation  should  be  made.  There- 
fore it  is  necessary  that  such  immature  minds  should  be 
under  the  oversight  of  some  one  who  knows  their  habits, 
who  knows  what  they  will  do  and  who  can,  so  far  as  pos  • 
sible,  see  to  it  that  they  change  their  procedure  when  the 
circumstances  require  it. 

Automatic  action  is  one  of  the  types  of  action  that 
constitute  habitual  actions.  We  shall  therefore  consider 
the  subject  of  habit  in  the  next  chapter. 

Summary. 

1.  The  purpose  of  a  nervous  system  is  to  enable  the 
organism  to  act. 

2.  The  perfection  of  action  depends  on  the  elaborate- 
ness of  the  neuron  patterns.    These  depend  on  the  in- 
herited neurons  and  the  acquistions  from  experience. 

3.  The  inherited  neuron  patterns  are  the  bases  for  re- 
flex, instinctive  and  impulsive  action. 

4.  Volitional  action  and  automatic  action  depend  upon 
acquired  neuron  patterns. 

5.  Volitional  action  is  the  result  of  a  conflict  between 
two  ideas  or  between  a  perception  and  an  idea. 

6.  Volitional  action  is  preceded  by  a  state  of  delibera- 
tion— the   neurokyme   interrupted   in   its   natural  flow 
seeks  new  outlets  to  motor  neurons. 

7.  The  neuron  pattern  that  will  be  finally  followed  (end 
of  the  deliberation)  is  determined  by  the  elaborateness 

[210] 


SUMMARY 

of  the  patterns  involved,  by  frequency,  recency  and  emo- 
tional content — by  how  much  the  sympathetic  system  en- 
ters into  the  process. 

8.  Consciousness  merely  makes  us  aware  of  what  is 
going  on :  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  determining  the  final 
direction  of  the  flow. 

9.  Immature  mind — including  mental  defectiveness — ia 
weak  in  volitional  action,  because  of  lack  of  association 
neurons  or  in  James'  terms,  few  ideas,  weak  attention 
and  few  habits  of  action. 

10.  When  the  circumstances,  giving  rise  to  a  volitional 
action,  occur  a  second  time  one  does  not  again  deliberate 
but  acts  as  he  did  before,  automatically.    This  is  auto- 
matic action. 


[211] 


CHAPTER  XII 
HABIT 

Habit  is  a  term  to  conjure  by.  It  has  been  the  theme 
of  orators  and  essayists,  lecturers  and  preachers.  James 
in  his  famous  chapter  makes  it  society's  "most  precious 
conservative  agent,"  and  for  the  individual  the  "spin- 
ning our  own  fates,  good  or  evil,  and  never  to  be  undone. ' ' 
Rousseau  inveighed  against  it,  saying  that  Entile  should 
be  so  educated  as  to  "form  no  habits — except  the  habit 
of  forming  no  habits. ' '  We  excuse  our  shortcomings  by 
pleading  an  unfortunate  habit.  Too  often  the  emphasis 
is  laid  on  bad  habits  and  we  are  urged  not  to  become  the 
slaves  of  habit. 

Much  of  the  confusion  has  arisen,  like  Rousseau's  ab- 
surd doctrine,  from  erroneous  conceptions  of  the  nature 
of  habit  and  its  place  in  human  economy.  It  is  true  that 
habit  is  in  a  sense  opposed  to  thot ;  and  a  person  who  is 
too  much  given  over  to  habit,  fails  to  use  his  intelligence. 

What  is  this  habit  that  is  so  much  talked  about  and 
so  little  appreciated!  Psychologically  considered,  habit 
is  an  automatic  or  impulsive  action,  or  a  group  of  such 
actions,  so  co-ordinated  as  to  result  in  the  performance 
of  a  more  or  less  complicated  act,  with  a  minimum  of  con- 
sciousness. 

Habit  has  sometimes  been  called  an  acquired  instinct, 
just  as  instinct  has  been  defined  as  an  inherited  habit. 
The  only  value  of  these  expressions,  however,  is  that  they 
call  attention  to  a  certain  relation  between  instinct  and 
habit  and  probably  have  arisen  because  an  instinctive 

[212] 


HABIT 

action  and  a  habit  are  in  outward  appearance  the  same, 
differing  only  in  origin.  The  instinct,  as  we  have  seen, 
is  the  result  of  activity  in  an  inherited  neuron  pattern, 
while  habit  is  more  often  the  result  of  action  in  a  neuron 
pattern  that  is  acquired,  but  which  has  been  stimulated 
so  often  that  the  neurokyme  flows  easily,  and  little  or  no 
consciousness  results. 

The  natural  history  of  a  habit  is  as  follows:  First 
there  is  an  impulse  to  act  in  a  certain  way,  fully  con- 
scious but  unopposed;  hence  the  action  occurs;  the  next 
time  the  same  impulse  comes,  action  follows  with  a  little 
less  consciousness;  soon  the  action  is  habitual.  For 
example,  in  Heidelberg  I  had  an  impulse  to  ride  my 
bicycle  along  the  Hauptstrasse.  I  did  so,  very  conscious 
of  the  narrow  crowded  street  and  of  the  rather  strange 
fact  that  there  were  no  other  bicyclists  in  sight.  Next 
morning  I  repeated  it,  but  thot  less  about  the  crowd  and 
the  absence  of  bicyclists.  The  third  morning  I  thot  of 
nothing  but  my  plans  for  the  day.  The  habit  was 
formed.  The  fourth  morning  I  was  astonished  at  being 
stopped  by  a  policeman.  For  some  time  I  could  not  com- 
prehend his  gestures  or  his  words.  My  riding  a  bicycle 
on  the  Hauptstrasse  had  become  so  habitual,  so  uncon- 
scious, that  it  did  not  occur  to  me  that  the  policeman  re- 
ferred to  that  when  he  said  "Verboten."  At  last  how- 
ever, it  was  clear !  I  must  not  ride  on  the  Hauptstrasse, 
but  could  turn  down  a  side  street,  etc.  I  did  so,  fully  re- 
solved to  obey  the  law,  and  did  obey  it  all  day.  The  fifth 
morning  found  me  a  block  and  a  half  down  the  Haupt- 
strasse and  a  couple  of  small  boys  calling,  "Verboten! 
Verboten!"  I  promptly  dismounted  and  walked  to  the 
next  side  street.  My  habit,  following  that  first  impulse, 
had  carried  me  where  I  had  no  intention  of  going. 

[213] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  foregoing  shows  a  habit  based  on  an  impulse  and 
many  habits  are  of  that  type.  There  is,  however,  another 
class  of  habits — those  based  on  a  volitional  action.  Had 
that  impulse  to  ride  along  the  Hauptstrasse  been  met  by 
an  idea  such  as,  "It  is  not  safe  to  ride  along  so  crowded 
a  street,"  the  act  would  at  once  have  become  a  subject 
for  deliberation  and,  whatever  the  outcome,  it  would  have 
been  a  volitional  action.  Had  I  decided  to  go  ahead  and 
ride  down  the  street,  the  remaining  history  would  have 
been  the  same  as  it  was  under  the  impulse,  except  that 
I  probably  would  have  more  quickly  understood  the 
policeman.  Having  myself  deliberated  as  to  the  wisdom 
of  riding  on  that  street,  more  or  less  elaborate  neuron 
patterns  would  have  been  aroused,  so  that  when  the 
policeman  stopped  me  I  would  almost  certainly  have  had 
an  association  by  which  I  would  have  thot  of  the  bicycle 
riding  and  would  have  been  ready  for  his  explanation. 
It  is  also  possible  that  the  habit  would  not  have  been  so 
quickly  formed  and  hence  would  have  been  more  easily 
broken  on  that  fourth  morning.  Having  deliberated  the 
first  morning,  some  memory  of  that  would  have  remained 
the  second  and  third  and  later  mornings.  I  would  not 
have  lapsed  into  unconscious  habitual  action  so  soon — 
the  fourth  morning. 

This  difference  between  impulsive  habits  and  voluntary 
habits  is  of  considerable  importance,  since  the  failure 
to  recognize  this  difference  may  account  for  some  of  the 
confused  ideas  and  irrational  treatment  of  the  subject  of 
habit.  For  example,  had  Rousseau  said  let  Emile  form 
no  impulsive  habits,  he  would  have  contributed  a  valuable 
suggestion  and  one  which  is  probably  well  worth  follow- 
ing. Let  us  see. 

Habit,  like  fire,  is  a  good  servant  but  a  bad  master. 

[214] 


Aside  from  the  fact  that  any  impulsive  action,  being  ir- 
rational, is  dangerous ;  the  fact  that  it  may  start  a  habit, 
and  thus  the  danger  be  perpetuated,  surely  renders  the 
impulsive  habit  most  undesirable. 

Moreover,  when  we  classify  habits  as  is  popularly  done 
into  good  and  bad,  we  find  that  most  of  the  bad  habits 
are  of  the  impulsive  kind.  An  intelligent  man  neither 
deliberately  starts  a  bad  habit  nor  keeps  it  up. 

Undesirable  habits  are  either  (1)  impulsive,  or  (2)  if 
deliberative,  are  the  result  of  a  deliberation  where  there 
was  incomplete  knowledge,  or  (3)  they  are  habits  that 
were  once  useful  but  have  become  disadvantageous  thru 
change  of  circumstances.  An  example  of  (2)  would  be 
my  bicycle  riding  on  the  Hauptstrasse,  following  delibera- 
tion. My  deliberation  resulted  in  a  wrong  decision  be- 
cause I  did  not  know  that  riding  on  the  Hauptstrasse  was 
against  the  law ;  an  example  of  (3)  is  the  well-known  story 
of  the  ex-soldier  with  his  arms  full  of  bundles.  When 
some  one  shouted  "attention,"  his  army  habit  asserted 
itself  and  down  went  his  hands  to  his  side  spilling  all  the 
bundles.  The  habit  had  been  deliberately  formed  and 
was  essential  to  success  in  the  army,  but  was  very  much 
in  the  way  outside  the  army. 

It  is  thus  evident  that  impulsive  habits  are  at  least 
dangerous.  It  would  be  far  wiser  to  form  the  habit  of 
not  acting  impulsively.  This  brings  us  to  habits  that  are 
deliberately  formed. 

The  deliberate  forming  of  useful  habits  is  the  most 
important  work  of  education,  both  self-education  and  edu- 
cation by  preceptors.  It  has  been  too  much  neglected. 
It  is  a  matter,  as  James  says,  of  "making  our  nervous 
systems  our  allies  instead  of  our  enemies."  It  is  turn- 
ing over  to  our  lower  nerve  centres  the  performance  of 

[215] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

as  much  of  the  routine  of  life  as  possible,  so  that  the 
higher  centres  may  be  free  to  deal  with  new  problems. 

Fortunately  an  immense  amount  of  our  daily  activity 
becomes  habitual  without  any  effort  on  our  part.  But 
much  more  benefit  could  be  derived  from  this  power  if  we 
consciously  planned  for  it.  The  business  of  childhood 
and  youth  should  be  the  deliberate  formation  of  useful 
habits.  Compared  to  this,  the  mere  acquisition  of  knowl- 
edge is  a  waste  of  time. 

From  this  standpoint  one  is  compelled  to  regard  the 
frenzied  efforts  to  make  children  into  precocious  scholars 
as  a  pitiable  perversion  of  child  nature.  A  nervous 
system  trained  to  function  usefully  is  the  all-important 
foundation  for  future  greatness.  Nervous  systems  grow 
and  acquire  their  co-ordinations  slowly  but  surely.  To 
ignore  the  development  of  these  lower  nerve  centres  and 
the  formation  of  valuable  habits,  and  instead  to  waste 
the  time  in  a  futile  attempt  to  hasten  the  functioning  of 
the  great  association  areas,  is  nothing  less  than  a  perver- 
sion of  nature.  Such  efforts  invariably  prove  disastrous 
in  one  way  or  another.  Sometimes  they  result  in  in- 
sanity, sometimes  they  produce  useless  prigs,  and  some- 
times early  death. 

There  are  gifted  children,  children  who  have  exception- 
ally good  nervous  systems,  who  have,  accidentally  or 
otherwise,  exceptionally  good  early  environment  and  op- 
portunities, and  as  a  consequence  are  precocious.  Such 
precocity  means  that  the  child  can,  if  rightly  treated, 
form  an  unusually  large  number  of  useful  nerve  habits 
and  perhaps  in  less  than  the  usual  time;  and  thus  be 
ready  with  a  nervous  mechanism  remarkably  equipped 
for  application  to  the  great  problems  of  life  as  soon  as 
his  great  association  areas  are  developed.  With  such 

[216] 


possibilities  it  is  nothing  less  than  tragedy  when  parental 
pride  or  pedagogical  conceit  steps  in  and,  ignorant  of 
fundamental  necessities,  attempts  to  develop  precocious 
attainments  along  so-called  academic  lines. 

Nothing  can  be  sadder  than  the  sight  of  a  gifted  child 
exhibiting  unusual  advancement  in  reading,  writing  or 
arithmetic,  but  without  any  well  formed  habits  of  eating, 
sleeping,  dressing,  playing,  working — in  short  without 
any  evidence  of  having  reduced  to  the  automatic  action 
of  his  lower  nerve  centres  that  great  mass  of  routine 
activities  which  must  underlie  all  future  greatness. 

For  the  sake  of  emphasizing  this  point  let  us  put  in 
parallel  columns  the  activities  of  the  beginning  of  the 
day,  first  for  the  man  who  has  reduced  them  to  habit,  and 
beside  it  for  the  man  who  has  no  habits  of  action  in  re- 
gard to  these  matters  of  daily  routine. 


HABIT 


Wake  7  o'clock.     Out  of  bed. 


Bath. 


Dress  in  clothes  habitually  worn 
on  the  road. 


Breakfast    at    the    club, 
eggs,  rolls,  coffee. 


Cereal, 


NO  HABIT 

(Wake  7  o'clock.)  Time  to  get 
up.  More  comfortable  here  in  bed. 
Have  work  to  do,  but  there  is  no 
rush.  Breakfast  will  get  cold — 
don't  know  that  I  care  for  break- 
fast. However,  I  will  get  up. 

(Sees  bath  tub.)  Shall  I  take  a 
bath?  Water  is  pretty  cold.  I  had 
one  yesterday.  I  like  a  bath  but  it 
takes  time.  Tomorrow  I  shall  be 
on  the  road  and  have  no  chance 
therefore  I  must  take  a  bath  now. 

Shall  I  put  on  the  brown  suit  or 
the  grey?  The  brown  is  prettier 
but  the  grey  is  a  little  better  for 
travelling  because  it  does  not  show 
the  dust.  The  brown  is  newer  but  it 
doesn't  fit  quite  so  well  as  the  grey. 
Think  I  will  wear  the  grey.  Oh,  it 
is  at  the  tailor's! 

Let  me  see,  what  shall  I  eat? 
Shall  I  take  coffee?  I  like  it  but 


[217] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

HABIT  yo   HABIT 

am  not  sure  whether  it  is  healthy. 
Dr.  Blank  says:  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 
(Think  of  the  endless  possibilities 
of  a  Menu  Card  for  a  man  who  has 
no  habits  for  eating.) 

Having  now  glimpsed  something  of  the  importance  of 
habit  we  come  back  to  our  concept  of  voluntary  habits. 

Every  act  that,  in  the  course  of  the  daily  life,  is  likely 
to  be  repeated  should  be  consciously  considered  and  a  de- 
cision reached  as  to  whether  it  would  be  desirable  as  a 
habit.  If  the  decision  is  in  the  negative  the  action  should 
not  be  performed,  or  if  it  must  be  done  once  let  it  not  be 
repeated,  or  at  least  let  it  never  be  done  without  full  con- 
sciousness and  deliberation,  keep  it  always  a  voluntary 
action  required  by  the  exigencies  of  the  situation.  If  it 
be  decided  that  this  habit  will  be  a  desirable  one,  then 
devote  all  energies  to  the  formation  of  such  habit. 

James'  (28)  maxims  for  habit  forming  should  be  fol- 
lowed to  the  letter.  We  repeat  them  here,  but  without 
his  masterly  comments. 

First,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  new  habit,  or  the  leaving 
off  of  an  old  one,  we  must  take  care  to  launch  ourselves 
with  as  strong  and  decided  an  initiative  as  possible. 

Second,  Never  suffer  an  exception  to  occur  till  the  new 
habit  is  securely  rooted  in  your  life. 

Third,  Seize  the  very  first  possible  opportunity  to  act 
on  every  resolution  you  make,  and  on  every  emotional 
prompting  you  may  experience  in  the  direction  of  the 
habits  you  aspire  to  gain. 

Fourth,  Don't  preach  too  much  to  your  pupils  or 
abound  in  good  talk  in  the  abstract. 

Fifth,  Keep  the  faculty  of  effort  alive  in  you  by  a  little 
gratuitous  exercise  every  day. 

Just  as  one  should  not  repeat  an  act  that  would  be  un- 

[218] 


KEEPING  GOOD  HABITS 

desirable  as  a  habit,  so  one  frequently  will  repeat  an 
habitual  act  for  no  other  reason  than  to  keep  up  the 
habit.  The  intelligent  man  often  inconveniences  himself 
rather  than  run  the  risk  of  breaking  a  useful  habit.  For 
example  one  is  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  walk  for  exercise 
at  a  certain  hour  each  day.  But  there  comes  a  day  when 
business  seems  to  demand  that  he  give  up  his  walk  for 
once.  To  which  he  replies,  "No,  this  is  an  important 
habit,  I  will  not  risk  breaking  it,  by  omitting  it  for  a 
single  day. ' J  Some  rise  always  at  the  same  hour,  summer 
and  winter,  Sundays  and  week  days,  rather  than  break 
the  habit.  Some  insist  on  eating  at  precisely  the  same 
hours  every  day — and  there  is  little  doubt  that  such 
regularity  is  beneficial  to  the  organism.  The  organism 
adapts  itself  to  these  regular  habits  in  beneficial  ways 
that  are  too  little  appreciated.  Stanley  Hall  used  to  say 
that,  always  having  given  his  academic  lectures  at  11 
A.  M.,  he  found  he  not  only  lectured  better  at  that  hour, 
but  when  not  lecturing  he  was  more  vivacious  in  conversa- 
tion at  that  time  of  day.  Most  people  who  have  a  regular 
place  as  well  as  a  regular  time  for  work,  find  that  they 
work  better  in  their  accustomed  place  than  elsewhere. 
Undoubtedly  this  all  means  a  saving  of  energy ;  hence  the 
importance  of  considering  all  such  matters  in  the  light 
of  habit  formation. 

We  have  given  three  reasons  why  we  have  undesirable 
habits:  First,  because  they  were  formed  impulsively; 
second,  altho  deliberative,  they  were  formed  on  the  basis 
of  imperfect  knowledge;  and  third,  circumstances  have 
changed  so  that  habits  that  were  once  useful  are  now 
detrimental.  This  raises  the  question  of  the  possibility 
of  breaking  a  habit.  We  are  often  told  that  habits  are 
easily  formed  but  broken  with  difficulty.  This  is  one  of 

[219] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

those  half  truths  that  may  work  much  harm  thru  the 
potent  suggestion  that  it  is  almost  useless  to  try  to  break 
a  well  formed  habit.  We  have  only  to  recall  our 
psychology  and  the  nature  of  habit  to  see  a  way  out. 

It  is  true  that  the  more  firmly  a  habit  is  rooted  the 
more  difficult  it  is  to  uproot.  If  we  have  gotten  to  the 
condition  where  the  presentation  of  the  stimulus  results 
promptly  in  a  neuron  activity  that  leads  to  the  perform- 
ance of  the  act  entirely  without  consciousness,  it  most 
certainly  will  be  only  by  special  effort  that  we  shall  be 
able  to  block  this  action.  But  that  it  can  be  blocked  is  a 
matter  of  every  day  experience.  In  fact,  we  do  change 
our  habits  daily.  A  habit  most  easily  formed  is  that  of 
sleep.  A  healthy  person  can  very  quickly  establish  the 
habit  of  going  to  sleep  at  a  certain  hour  and  awakening 
at  a  certain  hour  in  the  morning.  The  habit  is  some- 
times so  strong  that  persons  will  go  to  sleep  at  the  regular 
hour  no  matter  what  the  circumstances,  and  they  will 
sleep  until  their  usual  hour  in  the  morning  no  matter  how 
much  noise  or  disturbance  there  may  be  around  them. 
But  let  a  man  change  his  occupation  or  his  routine  of 
life  and,  while  he  may  experience  some  difficulty  for  a 
day  or  two,  usually  in  a  surprisingly  short  period  of  time 
he  has  entirely  readjusted  his  habits  in  this  particular. 
It  is  just  as  easy  to  rise  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  as 
it  has  been  to  rise  at  seven. 

Moreover,  we  change  a  great  many  habits  uncon- 
sciously, as  is  testified  to  by  the  common  experience  of 
discovering  that  we  once  had  the  habit  of  doing  so-and-so 
but  we  have  gotten  out  of  it,  we  know  not  how  or  why. 
We  can  see  the  method  best  by  considering  a  deeply 
rooted  habit  that  is  really  difficult  to  break.  Psychologi- 
cally the  rule  for  breaking  a  habit  is  easily  stated.  It 

[220] 


BREAKING  BAD  HABITS 

is  only  necessary  to  restore  the  consciousness  in  connec- 
tion with  the  action.  That  is  to  say,  bring  it  back  again 
to  a  deliberative  voluntary  act.  Under  this  new  delibera- 
tion the  new  data  resulting  from  experience  and  the  con- 
viction that  the  habit  is  bad  will  result  in  a  decision 
against  the  action. 

The  difficulty,  of  course,  comes  from  the  fact  that,  once 
the  action  has  become  unconscious,  it  is  performed  upon 
the  presentation  of  the  stimulus  before  we  have  time 
to  think  about  it.  But  here  the  law  of  association  comos 
to  our  rescue,  and  it  is  only  necessary  to  call  up  the 
stimulus  and  persistently  associate  with  it  the  conse- 
quences of  the  undesirable  habit  so  that  the  next  time 
the  stimulus  is  presented  it  will  arouse  the  new  neuron 
pattern,  which  brings  to  consciousness  the  undesirable 
result,  and  then  to  act  promptly  in  the  new  way. 

James  has  given  us  the  key  to  the  situation  in  his  il- 
lustration of  the  man  who  wished  to  reform  his  drink 
habit  and  who  advertised  that  he  would  give  any  one  fifty 
dollars  who  should  see  him  in  a  saloon  after  a  certain 
date.  By  this  drastic  procedure  he  has  associated  with 
the  stimulus — the  sight  of  a  saloon  or  the  feeling  of  thirst 
— the  unpleasant  consequences — the  loss  of  his  $50.00. 
This  will  inevitably  bring  to  consciousness  the  whole  situ- 
ation and  enable  him  to  voluntarily  walk  away  from  the 
saloon  instead  of  into  it. 

There  will,  of  course,  be  a  conflict  here  between  the 
old  neuron  pattern  and  the  new;  and  something  will  de- 
pend, as  we  have  already  intimated,  upon  the  prompt- 
ness with  which  he  is  able  to  act  upon  the  new  suggestion. 
If  he  stands  before  the  saloon  door  too  long  he  may  forget 
his  $50.00,  in  which  case  he  has  failed  to  break  his  habit. 
If,  however,  he  walks  promptly  past,  he  has  won. 

[221] 


It  will  be  seen  that  in  most  cases  the  breaking  of  an  old 
undesirable  habit  is  best  accomplished  by  the  formation 
of  a  new  and  contradictory  habit.  Therefore  James' 
rules  for  habit  formation  are,  in  reality,  the  solution  of 
the  problem  of  breaking  old  habits.  In  other  words,  bar- 
riers must  be  built  up  to  prevent  action  in  the  direction 
of  the  undesirable  habit.  If  I  am  in  the  habit  of  cross- 
ing my  neighbour 's  lot  on  my  way  to  business,  but,  upon 
finding  that  he  objects  to  my  passing  that  way,  decide  to 
go  around,  I  may  nevertheless  find  myself  half  way  across 
the  lot  before  I  remember  that  I  had  intended  to  go  by 
a  different  way.  If,  however,  upon  the  next  occasion  I 
find  a  barrier  has  been  built  up  and  I  cannot  get  thru, 
then  I  retrace  my  steps  and  probably  never  go  that  way 
again.  The  habit  has  been  broken. 

This  may  suggest  a  rule  for  breaking  a  bad  habit.  We 
must  build  barriers  so  that  we  cannot  act  in  the  direction 
of  the  old  habit.  It  may  not  be  feasible  to  offer  a  re- 
ward of  fifty  dollars  if  we  are  caught  acting  upon  the 
habit,  but  it  is  always  possible  to  find  some  way  of  estab- 
lishing a  barrier  which  will  compel  us  to  reform.  We 
have  urged  that,  so  far  as  possible,  habits  should  all  be- 
long to  the  voluntary  class,  that  we  should  not  act  im- 
pulsively. 

In  all  this  we  are  thinking  of  adults  who  would  con- 
sciously direct  their  own  habit  formation  or  of  normal 
children  whose  habits  should  be  moulded  by  intelligent 
adults.  There  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  these  facts 
about  habit  and  the  principles  about  habit  formation 
should  not  be  taught  to  children  fairly  early,  to  the  end 
that  they  may  intelligently  co-operate  in  the  establish- 
ment of  useful  habits  for  themselves. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  feeble-minded.  Here  we  have 

[222] 


HABIT  AND  FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS 

an  entirely  different  problem.  We  have  seen  that  the 
feeble-minded  are  lacking  in  the  higher  intellectual 
processes.  It  is  therefore  useless  to  expect  them  to  de- 
liberate and  decide  intelligently  in  regard  to  the  forma- 
tion of  habits. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  because  they  are  lacking  in  rea- 
son and  judgment  and  the  ability  to  deliberate  and  act 
rationally  in  new  situations,  they  are  all  the  more  the 
creatures  of  habit.  It  results  from  both  these  facts  that 
the  wise  and  intelligent  training  of  the  feeble-minded 
consists  largely  in  establishing  in  them  good  habits ;  and 
this  means  of  course,  not  appealing  to  their  reason,  which 
they  have  not,  but  in  requiring  of  them  such  action  as 
will  result  in  good  habits.  Left  to  themselves  their 
habits  are  as  apt  to  be  bad  as  good,  but  under  wise  treat- 
ment they  can  be  kept  from  forming  the  bad  habits  and 
made  to  form  useful  ones.  In  this  way  their  lack  of  judg- 
ment and  ability  to  meet  new  situations  is  partially 
counteracted. 

A  difficulty  still  exists,  of  course,  in  the  fact  that  the 
feeble-minded  person  will  always  act  in  accordance  with 
his  habits,  even  in  those  situations  where  the  intelligent 
person  would  use  judgment  and  modify  his  habitual  ac- 
tion. There  is  no  way  of  overcoming  this  difficulty  ex- 
cept by  keeping  the  feeble-minded  person  in  an  environ- 
ment where  new  situations  do  not  arise;  but  where,  in- 
stead, it  will  always  be  right  for  him  to  act  in  accord- 
ance with  the  habits  that  he  has  acquired.  If  his  lack 
of  reason  and  initiative  prevents  him  from  acting  prop- 
erly in  the  new  situation,  it  also  is  a  safeguard  in  that 
it  keeps  him  from  breaking  the  good  habit  and  forming 
a  bad  one. 

Among  the  feeble-minded,  habits  are  unusually  persist- 

[223] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ent.  It  must  be  noted,  however,  that  while  the  feeble- 
minded man  himself  is  unable  to  break  his  good  habits 
and  go  wrong,  it  is  entirely  possible  for  intelligent  per- 
sons of  evil  mind  to  lead  him  astray.  They  can  block  his 
good  action  and  establish  in  him  the  habit  of  acting 
wrongly  in  accordance  with  their  own  suggestions.  This 
points  once  more  to  the  necessity  of  keeping  these  child- 
minds  away  from  the  influence  of  bad  persons.  The  in- 
stitution or  colony  managed  by  good  and  intelligent  adults 
accomplishes  this  in  the  most  thoro  way.  Where  such  a 
solution  is  impracticable  there  should  be  in  the  child's 
home  group  some  person  or  persons  who  would  have  the 
responsibility  of  guiding  and  protecting  him  and  prevent- 
ing evil-minded  persons  from  disturbing  his  well  estab- 
lished good  habits.  When  the  psychology  of  habit  is  thus 
fully  appreciated  and  applied  to  all  grades  of  immature 
mind  many  social  problems  will  be  greatly  lessened. 

Summary. 

1.  Habits  are  of  two  kinds,  impulsive  and  volitional. 

2.  Impulsive  habits — resulting  from  an  unimpeded  im- 
pulse— are,  like  impulsive  action  itself,  dangerous  be- 
cause they  are  as  likely  to  be  to  the  disadvantage  of  the 
individual  as  to  his  benefit.    Most  bad  habits  are  impul- 
sive. 

3.  Voluntary   habits   may  be   of  the   highest   value. 
When  not  useful  it  is  either  because  the  original  choice  of 
action  was  based  on  imperfect  knowledge — resulting  in  a 
wrong  decision — or  because  of  a  change  of  circumstances. 

4.  The  deliberate  formation  of  useful  habits  is  the  most 
important  work  of  education. 

5.  It  is  not  impossible  and  usually  not  difficult  to  break 
habits,  if  one  goes  about  it  rationally  with  an  understand- 
ing of  the  psychology  involved. 

[224] 


SUMMARY 

6.  The  feeble-minded  form  habits  easily  and  change 
them  with  difficulty. 

7.  Therefore  habits  are  of  the  highest  importance  in 
the  training,  care  and  control  of  the  defective. 


[225] 


CHAPTER  XIII 
TEMPERAMENT 

IN  the  foregoing  discussion  of  various  mental  processes 
or  manifestations  of  mind,  we  have  invariably  been 
driven  back  to  two  sources  of  man's  mental  make-up: 
heredity  and  environment — sometimes  called  nature  and 
nurture,  or  as  we  have  repeatedly  used  the  terms,  the 
natural  and  the  acquired. 

Under  natural  endowment  we  have  emphasized  the  fact 
that  man  is  born  with  certain  neuron  patterns  ready  for 
action  and  that  whenever  the  proper  stimulus  is  applied, 
the  corresponding  action  takes  place.  This  is  necessarily 
the  same  in  the  child  as  in  the  parent,  the  same  that  has 
been  in  the  race  from  the  beginning. 

Under  acquisitions  we  have  referred  to  the  neuron  pat- 
terns that  have  been  developed  thru  experience.  The 
acquired  neuron  patterns  are  dependent  upon  the  experi- 
ences the  individual  has  had,  and  the  way  in  which  differ- 
ent events  are  coupled  up.  It  is  evident  that  the  pos- 
sibilities here  are  infinite,  limited  only  by  the  way  things 
occur  in  nature  or  can  be  brot  together. 

Up  to  the  present  time  we  have  laid  the  greatest  stress 
upon  this  matter  of  experience  because  it  is  more  possible 
of  control;  and  being  of  such  profound  significance  for 
the  individual,  it  constitutes  a  problem  of  education. 
Since  all  the  possibilities  of  reason,  judgment  and  will,  in 
the  higher  forms  at  least,  are  dependent  upon  experience, 
it  should  be  the  function  of  education  to  see  to  it  that  the 
child  has  all  of  the  most  desirable  experiences. 

[226] 


It  now  becomes  necessary  to  consider  a  little  more  fully 
the  question  of  inheritance.  It  is  entirely  possible  that 
the  variations  in  inheritance  are  quite  as  great  as  those 
of  environment.  In  other  words,  human  beings  differ 
enormously  in  their  original  nature.  It  has  been  custom-> 
ary  to  consider  some  of  these  fundamental  differences  in 
mental  make-up  as  temperamental. 

So  little  is  known  of  temperament  that  it  is  hardly  a 
scientific  subject.  It  is  still  spoken  of  as  a  doctrine. 
Galen,  who  flourished  in  the  second  century  of  our  era, 
recognized  four  temperaments,  and  the  terms  are  still 
used  in  popular  language.  There  were  the  full-blooded, 
or  sanguine,  which  is  warm,  impressional  and  change- 
able ;  the  phlegmatic,  which  is  quiet,  slow  and  persistent ; 
the  bilious,  or  choleric,  which  is  energetic  and  pre- 
dominantly objective;  and  the  melancholic,  which  is 
sentimental  and  has  a  marked  tendency  to  subjectivity  in 
excessive  form. 

It  will  be  noted  that  these  terms  are  all  taken  from 
either  real  or  imaginary  fluids  of  the  body,  such  as  the 
blood,  the  phlegm,  the  yellow  bile,  and  the  black  bile. 
While  the  names  of  the  temperaments  are  still  used  with 
the  significance  above  indicated,  the  connection  with  body 
fluids  is  no  longer  taken  seriously. 

Titchener  (51)  makes  temperament  dependent  upon  the 
rapidity  of  thot  and  the  strength  of  the  affection,  the 
combination  of  these  giving  the  four  possibilities.  For 
instance,  strong  affection  and  quick  thot  is  the  choleric, 
strong  affection  and  slow  thot  the  melancholic;  weak  af- 
fection and  quick  thot,  the  sanguine;  weak  affection  and 
slow  thot  the  phlegmatic. 

Eecent  discoveries  make  it  not  impossible  that  we  may 
ultimately  have  a  theory  of  temperament  which  will  com- 

[227] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

bine  these  two  views,  the  ancient  and  the  modern.  The 
modern  is  reasonable  since  rapidity  of  thot  would  be  a 
question  of  neurons  and  neuron  conductions,  especially 
in  the  cortex.  While  strength  of  the  affection  can  easily 
be  correlated  with  Mosso's  view  which  we  have  accepted, 
that  the  emotions  are  located  in  or  conditioned  by  the 
sympathetic  nervous  system.  This  view,  as  a  whole  then, 
recognizes  the  possibility  of  hereditary  differences  in  the 
neurons  of  the  cortex  and  in  the  structure  of  the  sym- 
pathetic nervous  system. 

Moreover,  Cannon's  and  Crile's  discoveries  and  other 
work  with  the  ductless  glands  make  it  entirely  possible 
that,  while  we  may  not  be  dealing  with  blood,  yellow  bile, 
and  whatever  fluids  the  ancients  thot  of  under  the  name 
of  black  bile  and  phlegm,  we  may  nevertheless  be  deal- 
ing with  such  fluids  as  are  secreted  by  adrenal  glands, 
thyroid  glands,  the  thymus,  and  the  other  glands  of  in- 
ternal secretion.  It  would  seem  quite  probable  then  that 
we  are  to  think  of  different  individuals  as  having  in- 
herited different  constitutions  in  these  particulars. 

Differences  in  neurons  may  be  in  their  chemical 
composition  and  the  rapidity  with  which  they  transmit 
impulses,  the  quickness  or  slowness  with  which  they  are 
restored  after  being  fatigued,  their  tendency  to  branch- 
ing, affecting  the  number  or  synapses  and  probably  other 
conditions  little  appreciated  today. 

Differences  in  the  sympathetic  system  may  also  be 
along  these  same  lines.  There  may  be  differences  in  con- 
ductivity here,  resulting  in  different  influences  upon  dif- 
ferent glands ;  and  perhaps  most  variable  and  important 
of  all,  differences  in  the  glands  themselves.  For  ex- 
ample, Cannon's  (8)  work  makes  it  entirely  possible  that 

[228] 


TEMPERAMENT  IN  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

a  difference  in  the  influence  of  a  nerve  impulse  upon  the 
adrenal  gland,  may  make  a  difference  in  the  amount  of 
secretion  poured  into  the  blood,  with  the  result  that  one 
person  gets  violently  angry,  or  is  subject  to  strong  fear, 
whereas  another  person  is  moderate  in  these  emotions. 

The  effect  of  the  glandular  secretions  upon  the  whole 
organism  is  very  definitely  known  in  at  least  one  case, 
that  is,  the  result  of  the  absence  of,  or  lack  of  function  in, 
the  thyroid  gland,  giving  rise  to  the  very  peculiar  in- 
dividual, known  as  the  Cretin. 

About  all  we  can  do  at  the  present  time  is  to  recognize 
that  there  are  actually  these  differences  in  what  we  call 
temperament,  to  attempt  to  classify  individuals,  and  to 
note  how  the  presence  of  the  sanguine,  the  choleric,  the 
phlegmatic,  and  the  melancholic  temperaments  affects  the 
individuals  in  their  relations  to  each  other  and  to  society. 

The  problem  has  not,  as  yet,  been  studied  in  connec- 
tion with  the  feeble-minded,  altho  it  is  evident  that  these 
temperaments  are  all  found  among  these  people  and  have 
marked  influence  upon  their  social  career  and  bearing; 
and  in  that  connection  are  of  great  importance  in  the 
whole  question  of  what  is  to  be  the  solution  of  the  feeble- 
minded problem.  The  sanguine  and  choleric  feeble- 
minded persons  are  the  ones  who  are  most  apt  to  get 
into  trouble  and  be  the  most  serious  menace  to  society; 
while  the  phlegmatic  and  melancholic  are  much  less 
dangerous. 

It  should  be  noted  that  the  whole  problem  is  much 
complicated  by  the  fact  that  there  is  no  sharp  line  be- 
tween these  four  temperaments  and  most  persons  are 
more  or  less  a  combination  of  two  or  three.  Evidently 
the  underlying  glandular  or  nervous  conditions  are  unit 

[229] 


characters  which  are  transmitted  in  accordance  with  the 
Mendelian  formula,  with  the  result  that  we  have  all  pos- 
sible combinations. 

Summary. 

1.  Temperament  relates  to  inherited  conditions  of  the 
nervous  system — both  cerebrospinal  and  sympathetic — 
and  of  the  glands  of  internal  secretion. 

2.  Recent  discoveries,  notably  Cannon's,  of  the  role  of 
the  glands  of  internal  secretion  paves  the  way  for  a 
modern  theory  of  temperament  combining  the  classical 
one   of   connection   with   body   fluids    and   Titchener's 
modern  view  of  the  combinations  of  quick  and  slow  thot 
and  strong  or  weak  affection. 

3.  Temperament  undoubtedly  plays  an  important  role 
among  the  feeble-minded  determining  to  a  large  extent 
their  social  adaptation. 

4.  Eoughly  speaking,  the  phlegmatic  and  melancholic 
are    rather    easily    controlled    while    the    choleric    and 
sanguine  cause  most  of  the  trouble  met  with  in  their  care. 


[230] 


PART  II 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  test  of  any  theory  is  the  completeness  with  which 
it  explains  known  facts.  The  presentation  of  the  facts 
of  mental  processes  as  set  forth  in  the  preceding  chapters 
is  in  some  respects  different  from  that  usually  found. 
We  have  been  led  to  this  point  of  view  by  the  study  of 
the  feeble-minded;  and  have  been  confirmed  in  these 
views  by  the  wide  application  they  seem  to  have,  not  only 
to  the  feeble-minded  but  to  many  common  phenomena  of 
life.  We  shall  attempt  in  the  following  chapters  to  point 
out  some  of  these  applications. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  and  far  reaching  of  all 
the  concepts  developed  is  that  of  mental  levels  and  the 
arrest  of  mental  development.  We  have  assumed  in  an 
earlier  chapter  that  brain  and  mind  develop  normally 
until  about  the  age  of  twenty,  with  the  average,  according 
to  Terman,  at  about  sixteen.  The  feeble-minded  have 
long  been  considered  cases  where  development  is  arrested 
previous  to  the  point  of  complete  maturity;  more 
specifically,  previous  to  the  beginning  of  adolescence,  or 
as  it  is  more  commonly  stated,  previous  to  the  age  of 
twelve.  The  discovery  of  the  moron,  that  is,  the  recogni- 
tion of  high-grade  defectives  who  differ  from  normal 
individuals  only  in  having  less  intelligence  and  not  by 
characteristic  physical  development  such  as  the  stigmata 
of  degeneration,  led  at  the  same  time  to  the  discovery 
of  the  border-line  cases  and  then  of  the  dull  normal, 
which  leads  directly  to  the  concept  of  arrest  of  develop- 

[233] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ment  of  all  degrees.  In  other  words,  the  intelligence  of 
human  beings  ranges  all  the  way  from  that  of  the  idiot 
or  person  of  the  mentality  of  a  child  of  1  or  2  years 
up  to  the  highest  point  attained  by  man — twenty  years 
or  more. 

This  concept  once  grasped,  the  desirability  of  deter- 
mining the  distribution  of  the  different  grades  of  in- 
telligence is  evident.  The  first  studies  showed  the 
number  of  persons  of  relatively  low  intelligence  to  be  so 
great  as  to  cast  doubt  upon  the  procedure  by  which  the 
intelligence  of  various  groups  was  determined. 

The  result  has  been  a  division  of  students  into  two 
camps;  the  one,  following  the  hypothesis  wherever  it 
leads,  accepts  the  conclusion  that  vast  numbers  of  people 
are  of  less  intelligence  than  was  supposed,  and  finds 
in  this  fact  an  explanation  of  the  careers  of  those  whose 
conduct  has  long  been  a  problem,  those  whose  inability 
to  get  along  in  the  world  has  been  attributed  to  ignorance, 
lack  of  education,  accident  or  misfortune.  The  other 
group  takes  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma  and  denies 
the  hypothesis,  saying  that  the  whole  view  is  ridiculous 
because  it  makes  half  the  human  race  little  above  the 
moron.  Logicians  have  always  claimed  that  it  is  not  safe 
to  reject  any  hypothesis  because  it  seems  ridiculous,  or 
because  the  conclusions  there  from  contradict  "  common 
sense."  We  have  been  led  to  adopt  the  first  of  the  two 
views,  not  because  of  a  blind  acceptance  of  the  hypothesis, 
but  because  the  conclusion,  surprising  as  it  is,  and  dif- 
ficult to  believe  in  some  cases,  on  the  whole  explains  the 
facts  of  modern  civilization  more  clearly  than  anything 
that  has  been  proposed.1 

i  Since  the  above  was  written  the  use  of  mental  testa  in  the  U.  S.  Army 
has  established  them  beyond  dispute. 

[234] 


THE  CURVE  OF  DISTRIBUTION 

Let  us  present  the  situa- 
tion as  it  appeals  to  us. 
Fig.  46  is  called  the  curve 
of  distribution.  The  rela- 
tive height  of  the  perpen-  Fig  48  Curve  of  digtributiolu 
diculars  shows  the  propor- 
tions of  the  different  degrees  of  whatever  trait  is  being 
examined.  For  example  suppose  we  were  considering 
the  stature  of  human  beings.  The  height  of  the  longest 
vertical  line  would  represent  that  stature  which  is  exactly 
attained  by  the  largest  number  of  human  beings, — very 
nearly  what  we  call  the  average  height.  There  are  al- 
most as  many  who  are  just  a  little  taller,  a  smaller  num- 
ber are  much  taller,  and  finally  a  very  few  are  extremely 
tall.  In  the  same  way  to  the  left  are  those  who  are  only 
a  little  shorter  than  the  average,  then  those  who  are  con- 
siderably shorter,  and  finally  a  few  who  are  very  short. 

Our  problem  concerns  intelligence  and  applied  to  this 
curve  of  normal  distribution  it  means  that  there  is  a 
certain  degree  of  intelligence  which  is  possessed  by  more 
people  than  any  other  one  degree ;  approximately  what  we 
would  call  average  intelligence.  There  are  almost  as 
many  that  are  just  a  little  higher  than  the  average,  there 
are  not  so  many  that  are  considerably  higher,  and  finally 
there  are  a  few  of  extremely  high  intelligence.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  almost  as  many  that  are  just  a 
little  below  the  average,  there  are  fewer  that  are  consid- 
erably below,  and  finally  there  are  a  few  that  have 
extremely  little  intelligence. 

Such,  roughly,  is  the  theory  of  mental  levels.  Many 
interesting  questions  at  once  arise.  Most  of  them  do  not 
concern  our  present  theme.  There  are  two,  however, 
that  are  of  vital  importance.  First,  what  is  the  degree 

[235] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  -SUBNORMAL 

of  intelligence  that  will  be  found  at  the  top  of  the  curve  ? 
What  is  the  average  intelligence  of  man  I  Is  it  sixteen 
years  as  Terman  suggests,  or  is  it  more  or  is  it  less? 
There  is  no  answer  as  yet,  but  the  indications  are  strong 
that  it  is  much  lower  than  we  have  supposed.  The  work 
now  going  on  in  testing  the  drafted  men  in  the  army, 
will,  when  published,  give  us  a  mass  of  data  that  will 
throw  a  flood  of  light  on  this  problem. 

If  it  is  ultimately  found  that  the  intelligence  of  the 
average  man  is  thirteen — instead  of  sixteen — it  will 
only  confirm  what  some  are  beginning  to  suspect;  viz., 
that  the  average  man  can  manage  his  affairs  with  only 
a  moderate  degree  of  prudence,  can  earn  only  a  very 
modest  living,  and  is  vastly  better  off  when  following  di- 
rections than  when  trying  to  plan  for  himself.  In  other 
words  it  will  show  that  there  is  a  fundamental  reason 
for  many  of  the  conditions  that  we  find  in  human  society 
and  further  that  much  of  our  effort  to  change  conditions 
is  unintelligent  because  we  have  not  understood  the 
nature  of  the  average  man. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  point  out  the  far-reaching 
effect  of  such  a  discovery — should  it  prove  true.  We 
may,  however,  allow  ourselves  one  observation.  Some 
may  think  that  this  doctrine  of  mental  levels,  especially 
if  it  leads  to  such  facts  as  above  indicated,  is  an  argu- 
ment against  democracy.  It  certainly  is  an  argument 
against  certain  theories  of  democracy.  Democracy 
means  the  people  rule  (Demos,  people;  Kratos,  ruler). 
To  maintain  that  mediocre  or  average  intelligence  should 
decide  what  is  best  for  a  group  of  people  in  their  struggle 
for  existence  is  manifestly  absurd.  We  need  the  advice 
of  the  highest  intelligence  of  the  group,  not  the  average, 
any  more  than  the  lowest. 

[236] 


DEMOCRACY  AND  ARISTOCRACY 

Democracy  is  historically  a  rebellion  against  a  so 
called  aristocracy  (Aristos,  best)  a  rule  by  divine  right, 
the  divine  right  of  kings.  The  trouble  with  the  old  aris- 
tocracy is  in  the  answer  to  the  question,  "Who  decides 
who  is  the  best?"  In  the  aristocracies  of  the  past  a 
small  group  of  people  have  said,  "We  are  the  best,  we 
have  the  right  to  rule. ' '  Democracy  says :  '  *  The  entire 
group  must  decide  who  is  best,  wisest,  who  can  give  us 
the  best  advice."  But  will  average  intelligence  select 
highest  intelligence  and  submit  to  its  rule?  It  depends 
upon  the  character  of  the  highest  intelligence,  and  its  atti- 
tude toward  mediocre  and  low  intelligence.  The  moron 
in  the  community  will  not  select  and  obey  the  man  who 
tests  high  but  who  uses  his  intelligence  for  Ms  own  ag- 
grandisement and  mistreats  those  of  lower  intelligence. 
But  the  morons  and  imbeciles  in  an  institution  would 
select  and  do  obey  the  superintendent  and  his  helpers  be- 
cause they  are  working  unselfishly  to  make  the  morons 
and  imbeciles  happy. 

Democracy,  then,  means  that  the  people  rule  by  select- 
ing the  wisest,  most  intelligent  and  most  human  to  tell 
them  what  to  do  to  be  happy.  Thus  Democracy  is  a 
method  for  arriving  at  a  truly  benevolent  aristocracy. 
Such  a  consummation  will  be  reached  when  the  most  in- 
telligent learn  to  apply  their  intelligence.  In  other 
words  instead  of  securing  power  by  such  political 
methods  as  are  now  too  often  resorted  to,  or  by  the  use 
of  money  and  ' '  influence, ' '  high  intelligence  must  so  work 
for  the  welfare  of  the  masses  as  to  command  their  re- 
spect and  affection. 

This  is  not  difficult,  once  the  problem  is  understood  and 
the  right  attitude  taken.  The  reason  the  moron  is  a 
menace  in  society  is  that  he  is  misunderstood  and  conse- 

[237] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

quently  mistreated.  The  reason  he  is  a  happy,  contented, 
obedient,  and  useful  member  of  an  institution  for  the 
feeble-minded,  is  that  he  is  understood  and  treated  with 
consideration.  His  mental  level  is  recognized  and  every 
effort  made  to  secure  his  happiness.  The  truest  democ- 
racy is  found  in  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  and 
it  is  an  aristocracy — a  rule  by  the  best. 

Another  consequence  of  the  discovery  that  average 
intelligence  is  thirteen  instead  of  sixteen  is  that  it  pre- 
pares us  to  accept  a  much  larger  group  of  morons,  since 
they  are  thus  brot  nearer  the  apex  of  the  curve  and,  un- 
less the  curve  is  a  very  steep  one,  must  be  nearly  equal  in 
numbers  to  the  average  group.  The  recognition  of  this 
fact,  if  it  proves  to  be  a  fact,  will  prepare  us  to  accept  the 
findings  of  investigations  already  made  and  many  others 
being  made  and  to  follow,  showing  that  large  groups  of 
so-called  menials  really  fall  into  the  moron  class.  This 
again  enables  us  to  understand  their  shortcomings,  their 
follies,  their  blunders  and  failures.  And,  what  is  still 
more  important,  it  points  the  way  to  a  wise  and  satis- 
factory treatment  of  these  classes  by  the  more  intelligent 
group. 

A  second  question  of  importance  in  connection  with  the 
doctrine  of  intelligence  levels  is:  What  is  the  cause  of 
the  low  intelligence  of  human  beings?  Here  again  there 
are  two  views.  One  group  says  it  is  lack  of  education  or 
training.  Therefore,  according  to  them,  if  the  average 
intelligence  is  low,  it  only  emphasizes  the  need  of  better 
educational  facilities.  The  other  group  says  that  in- 
telligence is  something  quite  different  from  education; 
that  it  is  primarily  dependent  upon  the  inherited  nervous 
system  and  neuron  patterns;  and  while  education  is  im- 
portant and  can  do  much,  yet  as  a  rule  people  display 

[238] 


MILLET'S  PICTURE 

the  intelligence  that  they  do,  because  of  the  condition  of 
their  neurons;  and  they  behave  as  they  do  because  of 
lack  of  sufficient  intelligence  to  do  better. 

Every  reader  of  this  book  knows  of  a  great  many 
people  who  repeatedly  act  unintelligently.  We  are  con- 
stantly asking,  "Why  does  Blank  make  such  stupid 
blunders?"  "Why  doesn't  X  get  along  better  than  he 
does?"  Usually  one  leaves  the  question  unanswered  or 
else  concludes  that  the  person  is  either  uneducated  or 
unfortunate.  The  hypothesis  of  mental  levels  says  that 
as  a  rule  such  cases  are  instances  of  arrested  develop- 
ment of  mentality;  that  they  do  as  they  do  because  they 
have  not  enough  intelligence  to  do  better.  They  are  not 
feeble-minded  necessarily,  but  they  are  more  or  less  below 
the  average  intelligence  or  at  least — and  what  is  more 
likely  to  be  true — so  much  below  the  intelligence  of  the 
observer  that  they  cannot  with  any  possibility  act  as 
wisely  as  he  would  in  a  similar  situation.  Such  a  person 
does  as  he  does  because  he  has  not  intelligence  enough 
to  adapt  himself  to  the  complicated  environment  in  which 
he  is  placed. 

Millet  painted  a  famous  picture,  known  as  The  Man 
With  the  Hoe.  Fig.  47.  Edwin  Markham  wrote  a  poem 
about  it  in  which  he  seems  to  imply  that  the  man  Millet 
painted  came  to  his  condition  as  the  result  of  social  con- 
ditions which  held  him  down  and  made  him  like  the 
clods  that  he  turned  over.  This  is  undoubtedly  the  popu- 
lar view.  The  doctrine  of  mental  levels,  on  the  other 
hand,  while  not  denying  that  there  are  men  whom  circum- 
stances have  held  down,  would  lead  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  majority  of  such  people  as  the  man  with  the  hoe  are 
where  they  are  because  of  lack  of  intelligence.  Millet's 
Man  With  the  Hoe  is  a  man  of  arrested  mental  develop- 

[239] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ment — the  painting  is  a  perfect  picture  of  an  imbecile. 
Markham's  poem  thus  becomes  a  pertinent  question  as 
to  the  cause  of  feeble-mindedness,  and  how  society  is 
solving  the  problems  involved. 

We  ask  the  reader  to  read  again  the  poem  with  this  thot 
in  view. 

THE  MAN  WITH  THE  HOE 

Bowed  by  the  weight  of  centuries  he  leans 
Upon  his  hoe  and  gazes  on  the  ground, 
The  emptiness  of  ages  in  his  face, 
And  on  his  back  the  burden  of  the  world. 
Who  made  him  dead  to  rapture  and  despair, 
A  thing  that  grieves  not  and  that  never  hopes, 
Stolid  and  stunned,  a  brother  to  the  ox? 
Who  loosened  and  let  down  this  brutal  jaw? 

Whose  was  the  hand  that  slanted  back  this  brow  ? 

Whose  breath  blew  out  the  light  within  this  brain  ? 

Is  this  the  Thing  the  Lord  God  made  and  gave 

To  have  dominion  over  sea  and  land ; 

To  trace  the  stars  and  search  the  heavens  for  power; 

To  feel  the  passion  of  Eternity? 

Is  this  the  Dream  He  dreamed  who  shaped  the  suns 

And  marked  their  ways  upon  the  ancient  deep? 

Down  all  the  stretch  of  Hell  to  its  last  gulf 

There  is  no  shape  more  terrible  than  this — 

More  tongued  with  censure  of  the  world's  blind  greed — 

More  filled  with  signs  and  portents  for  the  soul — 

More  fraught  with  danger  to  the  universe. 

What  gulfs  between  him  and  the  seraphim ! 
Slave  of  the  wheel  of  labour,  what  to  him 
Are  Plato  and  the  swing  of  Pleiades? 
What  the  long  reaches  of  the  peaks  of  song, 
The  rift  of  dawn,  the  reddening  of  the  rose? 

[240] 


i-C       ' 

-    <u 


b 
£ 


EDWIN  MARKHAM 

Through  this  dread  shape  the  suffering  ages  look; 
Time's  tragedy  is  in  that  aching  stoop; 
Through  this  dread  shape  humanity  betrayed, 
Plundered,  profaned,  and  disinherited, 
Cries  protest  to  the  Judges  of  the  World, 
A  protest  that  is  also  prophecy. 

O  masters,  lords  and  rulers  in  all  lands, 

Is  this  the  handiwork  you  give  to  God, 

This  monstrous  thing  distorted  and  soul-quenched? 

How  will  you  ever  straighten  up  this  shape; 

Touch  it  again  with  immortality; 

Give  back  the  upward  looking  and  the  light; 

Rebuild  in  it  the  music  and  the  dream; 

Make  right  the  immemorial  infamies, 

Perfidious  wrongs,  immedicable  woes? 

O  masters,  lords  and  rulers  in  all  lands, 
How  will  the  Future  reckon  with  this  Man? 
How  answer  the  brute  question  in  that  hour 
When  whirlwinds  of  rebellion  shake  the  world? 
How  will  it  be  with  kingdoms  and  with  kings — 
With  those  who  shaped  him  to  the  thing  he  is — 
When  this  dumb  Terror  shall  reply  to  God, 
After  the  silence  of  the  centuries? 

While,  as  we  have  said,  the  poem  seems  to  imply  that 
environment  has  made  the  man  what  he  is,  our  view 
makes  the  cause  heredity.  But  that  does  not  make  less 
pertinent  the  question  "Who  made  him  dead  to  rapture 
and  despair?"  It  only  pushes  back  the  query  to  "What 
is  heredity?"  Is  it  the  accumulation  thru  long  ages  of 
slight  variations  downward  or  is  it  some  sudden  muta- 
tion or  yet  again  is  it  a  strain  of  primitive  human  nature 
that  has  never  developed?  Science  has  as  yet  no  sure 
answer. 

[241] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  view  that  lack  of  ability  to  act  intelligently  is  due 
to  lack  of  education  must  not  be  dismissed  without  one 
very  important  fact  that  bears  upon  the  question.  Edu- 
cation as  a  solution  for  inefficiency  has  been  tried  from 
time  immemorial.  Not  all,  it  is  true,  but  many,  of  those 
who  manifest  low  intelligence  have  had  the  same  op- 
portunities, the  same  school  facilities  as  their  more  in- 
telligent associates,  and  yet  they  have  never  been  able 
to  profit  by  these  opportunities. 

Not  only  have  dullards  in  school  had  the  best  efforts 
of  their  teachers,  but  parents  have  spent  their  lives  and 
fortunes  trying  to  " educate"  these  children.  Special 
methods,  special  schools,  special  institutions  have  all 
tried,  and  tried  with  all  the  zeal  that  goes  with  perfect 
faith.  Even  institutions  for  the  feeble-minded  for  years 
believed  that  they  could  improve  the  mentality  of  their 
pupils — all  to  no  avail. 

The  counter  argument  is  of  almost  equal  force.  Hun- 
dreds of  men,  past  and  present,  have  displayed  high  in- 
telligence and  yet  have  had  little  or  no  opportunities  for 
education,  as  education  is  usually  understood.  They  are 
called  self-educated,  or  self-made  men,  which  in  the  last 
analysis  can  only  mean  that,  being  men  of  natural  in- 
telligence, they  have  made  use  of  such  opportunities  as 
came  to  them  to  acquire  experience,  to  develop  their 
neuron  patterns ;  and  have  actually  been  able  to  equal  per- 
haps the  highest  intelligence  known — certainly  often- 
times to  go  far  ahead  of  the  average.  And  that  is  as  true 
of  men  living  today  and  functioning  in  our  most  com- 
plex society,  as  of  men  who  lived  in  the  past  when  social 
conditions  were  vastly  simpler. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  see  what  the  practical  acceptance 
of  this  view  would  mean.  It  means  at  first,  of  course, 

[242] 


RESPONSIBILITY 

a  radical  change  of  attitude  toward  our  fellows.  It 
means  a  complete  change  of  ideas  of  responsibility.  We 
have  learned  that  the  idiot  is  so  little  intelligent  that  he 
is  no  more  responsible  for  his  actions  than  an  infant. 
The  imbecile  of  a  little  higher  intelligence  has  only  a 
very  moderate  degree  of  responsibility.  The  moron  has 
more  intelligence,  but  in  the  larger  affairs  of  life  we  no 
longer  hold  him  responsible.  The  mere  fact  that  a  per- 
son is  recognized  as  feeble-minded,  whether  imbecile  or 
moron,  is  sufficient  to  excuse  him  from  punishment  for 
crimes  or  misdemeanours. 

When  we  pass  that  imaginary  line  that  separates  the 
feeble-minded  from  the  so-called  normal,  we  come  to  those 
who  are  supposed  to  be  responsible,  but  who  in  fact  are 
only  responsible  to  a  degree  slightly  above  that  of  the 
high  grade  feeble-minded.  This  being  understood,  it  at 
once  becomes  incumbent  upon  those  who  have  intelligence, 
to  recognize  the  limitations  of  those  of  arrested  develop- 
ment. 

Once  this  condition  is  appreciated,  society  must  be  so 
organized  that  these  people  of  limited  intelligence  shall 
not  be  given,  or  allowed  to  hold,  positions  that  require 
more  intelligence  than  they  possess.  And  in  the  posi- 
tions that  they  can  fill,  they  must  be  treated  in  accord- 
ance with  their  level  of  intelligence.  A  society  organized 
on  this  basis  would  be  a  perfect  society.  Because  we  do 
not  recognize  mental  levels,  we  put  men  in  positions  in- 
volving more  responsibility  than  they  are  capable  of 
carrying  and  then  trouble  arises.  We  are  learning  now 
that  there  are  relatively  few  things  that  the  moron  can 
do.  We  are  learning  that  he  must  be  treated  as  a  child. 

We  must  next  learn  that  there  are  great  groups  of 
men,  laborers,  who  are  but  little  above  the  child,  who 

[243] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

must  be  told  what  to  do  and  shown  how  to  do  it ;  and  who, 
if  we  would  avoid  disaster,  must  not  be  put  into  positions 
where  they  will  have  to  act  upon  their  own  initiative  or 
their  own  judgment.  We  must  learn  that  the  distribu- 
tion curve  applies  to  every  community.  There  are  only 
a  few  leaders,  most  must  be  followers. 

We  have  partially  recognized  the  foregoing  facts,  and 
in  a  crude  way  have  attempted  to  meet  the  situation. 
There  are  certain  trades,  occupations  and  professions 
that  no  man  can  enter  without  a  State  license.  Why? 
Because  it  has  been  discovered  that  these  are  positions 
of  great  responsibility.  Errors  of  judgment  or  lack  of 
intelligence  may  result  in  great  loss  of  property  or  of 
life.  A  man  must  be  licensed  to  practise  medicine  be- 
cause if  he  does  not  have  a  certain  amount  of  intelligence 
he  may  do  untold  harm  to  the  community.  A  man  must 
be  licensed  to  run  an  engine  because  it  has  been  discov- 
ered that  an  unintelligent  engineer  may  cause  enormous 
loss  of  life  and  property.  But  our  methods  are  as  yet 
too  crude  and  empirical. 

The  ideal  solution  of  the  problem  involves  two  things. 
First,  the  knowledge  of  the  amount  of  intelligence  re- 
quired in  any  work;  and  second,  the  knowledge  of  the 
amount  of  intelligence  possessed  by  the  would-be  worker 
in  that  line.  Then  it  will  be  relatively  easy  to  fit  the 
individual  to  his  work.  We  have  come  to  this  practice 
in  certain  dangerous  professions.  Human  welfare  de- 
pends upon  the  right  procedure  in  many  cases  where 
danger  is  not  recognized.  Efficiency  has  come  to  be  a 
great  word. 

Efficiency  comes  from  having  every  man  fitted  to  his 
job,  so  that  no  mistakes  and  no  consequent  losses  come 
from  lack  of  intelligence.  Let  us  take  an  illustration. 

[244] 


EFFICIENCY 

Suppose  two  men  start  into  the  manufacturing  business. 
The  one  chooses  his  employes  in  what  we  may  call  the  old- 
fashioned  way,  with  the  result  that  many  men  are  given 
jobs  that  require  more  intelligence  than  they  possess.  It 
is  inevitable  that  these  men  will  sooner  or  later  make 
mistakes ;  will  spoil  work ;  will,  at  a  critical  moment,  do 
the  wrong  thing,  with  resultant  loss.  All  those  losses 
must  somehow  be  covered  and  the  consumer  of  the 
product  of  that  factory  must,  in  the  long  run,  pay  for 
them.  Another  employer  selects  his  men  according  to 
some  plan,  based  on  a  determination  of  intelligence.  He 
knows  the  amount  of  intelligence  required  in  each  job, 
he  ascertains  the  intelligence  of  his  would-be  employes 
and  gives  them  jobs  accordingly.  Each  man  is  trained, 
not  simply  to  do  his  work,  but  to  do  it  intelligently.  He 
meets  all  the  exceptional  situations  with  good  judgment. 
The  result  is  no  losses,  no  accidents.  The  manufactured 
product  is  produced  at  the  lowest  cost.  That  factory  is 
efficient,  the  other  is  not.  The  first  man  cannot  honestly 
compete  with  the  second.  Fortunately  some  plants  are 
now  being  run  on  the  new  plan.  But  the  great  mass  of 
our  industries,  and  much  of  our  social  organization  today 
are  on  the  former  plan.  It  is  largely  an  accident  if  a 
man  gets  a  job  that  he  is  thoroly  competent  to  do.  It 
must  be  noted  that  many  jobs  are  filled  by  men  who  are 
competent  to  manage  them  when  all  goes  well,  but  when 
the  unexpected  happens,  the  emergency  arises,  they 
break  down.  We  are  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  incom- 
petency,  largely  because  we  do  not  recognize  mental 
levels. 

This  is  a  day  of  social  uplift.  Thousands  of  people 
have  become  interested  in  these  social  problems  and  are 
working  to  uplift  the  masses.  Many  of  the  efforts  have 

[245] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

come  to  naught,  are  coming  to  naught,  and  will  continue 
to  come  to  naught  until  this  principle  of  mental  levels  is 
recognized. 

Many  a  philanthropically  inclined  man  or  society  has 
cleaned  up  a  community  or  a  family  only  to  find  that  in 
a  few  weeks  or  months  conditions  were  as  bad  as  they 
were  before.  One  investigation  in  New  York  City  found 
one  family  that  had  been  the  recipients  of  charity  from  a 
charity  organization  society  for  thirty  years;  this  story 
could  be  multiplied  many  times,  probably  in  every  com- 
munity. What  does  it  mean!  That  the  family  has  not 
enough  intelligence  to  profit  by  the  help  that  is  given 
them.  An  intelligent  man  may  sometimes  be  overcome 
by  circumstances  and  need  to  be  helped  on  his  feet,  but 
once  helped  to  get  control  of  circumstances,  he  is  able  to 
go  alone.  It  is  useless  to  set  the  unintelligent  man  up  in 
business  and  expect  him  to  manage  his  affairs  satis- 
factorily. 

As  a  rule  the  drudgery  of  the  world  is  done  by  these 
people  of  low  intelligence,  simply  because  more  intelli- 
gent people  will  not  do  such  work.  They  seek  for  work 
where  their  intelligence  counts  and  the  people  who  are 
doing  the  drudgery  are,  as  a  rule,  in  their  proper  places. 
This  fact  should  be  recognized  and  they  should  be  helped 
to  keep  their  proper  places,  encouraged  and  made  happy, 
but  not  promoted  to  work  for  which  they  are  incom- 
petent. A  certain  mother  had  a  feeble-minded  boy  of 
moron  grade.  She  secured  him  employment  as  a  messen- 
ger boy.  This  was  well  within  his  capacity.  He  was 
of  a  quiet  temperament,  obedient  and  faithful,  and  did 
his  work  well;  so  well  in  fact,  that  the  manager  was  so 
much  pleased  that  he  promoted  him  to  the  office.  In  a 

[246] 


CAUTIONS 

short  time  the  boy  had  to  be  discharged  for  incompetency 
and  dishonesty.  The  mother  brot  him  back  and  this  con- 
versation occurred.  "Was  not  my  boy  a  good  messenger 
boy?"  "Yes,  excellent."  "Then  will  you  not  employ 
him  as  a  messenger  boy  on  a  task  that  he  can  do,  and  not 
attempt  to  make  out  of  him  that  for  which  he  has  not  the 
intelligence  f ' ' 

We  have  said  that  we  have  learned  to  recognize  the 
mental  levels  of  the  feeble-minded,  but  we  must  learn  to 
do  the  same  for  a  large  proportion  of  the  community. 

In  conclusion,  two  cautions  are  necessary.  First,  the 
reader  must  not  forget  the  distinction  we  have  made  be- 
tween education  or  training  and  intelligence.  In  what 
we  have  said  we  do  not  refer  to  those  persons  who  under- 
take a  piece  of  work  that  requires  training,  but  for  which 
they  have  had  no  training.  The  man  who  employs  a 
carpenter  to  build  a  house  may  be  much  more  intelligent 
than  the  carpenter  and  yet  not  be  able  to  do  the  car- 
penter's work  because  it  requires  training,  in  addition 
to  a  certain  degree  of  intelligence.  But  it  does  not 
necessarily  require  as  much  intelligence  as  the  house- 
holder possesses.  In  the  institutions  for  the  feeble- 
minded one  may  find  feeble-minded  men  and  women  do- 
ing tasks  that  the  college  man  could  not  perform  with- 
out training.  This  only  means  that  the  various  tasks 
that  have  to  be  performed  call  for  a  combination  of  in- 
telligence and  training ;  and  this  in  all  proportions,  some 
requiring  little  intelligence  and  much  training,  others 
much  intelligence  and  little  training.  It  must  not  be  for- 
gotten either  that  as  a  rule  the  greater  the  intelligence, 
the  less  training  it  requires  to  master  a  particular  trade. 

The  second  caution  is,  that  it  cannot  be  denied  that 

[247] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

there  are  people  of  good  intelligence  who  are  incompetent, 
ne'er-do-wells,  criminals,  or  other  anti-social  persons. 
At  present  we  know  little  scientifically  about  this  group, 
yet  we  cannot  deny  the  existence  of  such  a  group.  They 
constitute  a  real  problem  in  education. 


[248] 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  DETERMINATION  OF  MENTAL  LEVELS 

IN  Part  I,  we  attempted  to  show  how  the  various  mental 
processes  develop  pari  passu  with  the  development  of  the 
nervous  system.  It  follows  that  just  as  we  have  stages 
of  growth  physically  so  we  have  levels  of  intelligence. 
In  a  general  way  this  is  not  a  new  thot,  since  every  one 
knows  that  a  ten  year  old  child  is  more  intelligent  than 
an  eight  year  old,  and  an  adult  more  intelligent  than  a 
youth.  It  is,  however,  not  appreciated  that  these  levels 
are  as  definite  as  the  physical  stages;  just  as  a  child 
should  be  of  a  certain  height  at  a  certain  age,  so  he  should 
have  a  certain  degree  or  level  of  intelligence.  Nor  is  it 
appreciated  that  this  development  of  intelligence — this 
growth  from  one  level  to  the  next  higher — is  inherent 
in  the  nature  of  the  growing  organism,  and  is  not  a 
matter  of  education  or  training.  White  (55)  says: 

"  Every  individual  born  into  the  world  has,  if  it  could 
be  determined,  a  definite  potentiality  for  development.'* 

We  have  also  emphasized  the  fact  that  a  consider- 
able proportion  of  the  human  race  have  not  developed 
to  the  full  capacity  or  to  average  mentality,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  have  been  arrested  in  various  stages  or  at 
various  levels.  In  the  foregoing  chapter  we  have  shown 
the  significance  of  this  arrest  in  many  practical  affairs 
of  life.  These  familiar  facts  of  differences  of  intelligence 
among  adults  as  well  as  between  children  of  different 
ages  have  recently  received  new  significance  and  great 
importance  from  the  fact  that  we  have  learned  to  measure 

[249] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

and  determine  these  mental  levels  with  much  accuracy. 

It  was  the  great  French  scientist,  Alfred  Binet  (5  &  6), 
that  showed  us  how  to  measure  intelligence,  and  it  was 
his  genius  that  gave  us  the  first  measuring  scale.  The 
practical  application  of  the  doctrine  of  mental  levels  de- 
pends upon  the  ability  to  measure  the  intelligence  of  the 
individual.  If  intelligence  cannot  be  measured,  there  is 
little  practical  value  in  knowing  that  there  are  levels  of 
mental  development ;  if  it  can  be  measured,  then  the  sug- 
gestions of  the  previous  chapter  are  not  only  practical 
but  of  vital  importance. 

That  intelligence  can  be  measured  is  no  longer  in  doubt. 
Aside  from  the  thousands  of  children  that  have  been 
tested  in  the  past  ten  years — and  the  results  confirmed — 
the  present  use  of  mental  tests  in  the  United  States  Army 
has  settled  the  question.  Army  officials  testify  that  the 
psychologist  with  his  measuring  scale  of  intelligence  dis- 
covers in  an  hour's  time  a  soldier's  ability  more  ac- 
curately and  more  certainly  than  the  officers  can  deter- 
mine it  in  weeks  of  observation.  The  value  of  this  to 
the  army  cannot  be  overestimated.  First  there  is  the 
prompt  recognition  of  high  intelligence,  with  the  result- 
ant possibility  of  having  responsible  positions  filled  by 
competent  men;  and  second,  the  equally  important 
recognition  of  those  men  whose  intelligence  is  so  low  that 
they  can  be  trusted  only  in  the  most  menial  positions. 
How  far  the  actually  feeble-minded  can  be  utilized  in 
the  army  is  yet  to  be  worked  out.  The  greatest  difficulty 
here  will  be  that  the  army  officers,  having  had  no  experi- 
ence with  the  feeble-minded,  will  not  understand  how  to 
treat  them  to  get  the  best  out  of  them.1 

i  Twelve  per  cent.  (12%)  of  the  drafted  army  of  the  U.  S.  was  found  to 
have  too  low  intelligence  to  be  sent  over  seas. 

[250] 


MENTAL  LEVELS 

It  is  probable  that  there  is  plenty  of  work  in  the  army 
that  requires  no  more  intelligence  than  that  possessed 
by  the  least  intelligent  drafted  man.  But  these  low  in- 
telligence men  must  be  handled  like  children  if  they  are 
to  be  kept  at  work  at  their  best.  They  must  be  con- 
tinually encouraged  and  praised.  New  work  must  be  as 
carefully  explained  to  them  as  to  a  child.  They  must  not 
be  scolded  or  punished — in  the  usual  sense.  Deprivation 
of  privileges  will  accomplish  all  that  can  be  accomplished 
in  the  way  of  correction  of  mistakes  or  misdemeanours. 
Some  who  have  acquired  bad  habits  before  entering  the 
army  will  undoubtedly  have  to  be  discharged.  Such  dis- 
charge should,  however,  be  in  the  form  of  a  commitment 
to  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded.  These  men,  once 
under  the  control  of  the  government  as  they  are  in  the 
draft,  should  never  again  be  turned  loose  in  society  to  live 
on  their  own  responsibility. 

Not  only  has  the  use  of  mental  tests  in  the  army 
settled  the  question  of  their  value,  but  we  may  expect 
still  greater  benefits  in  the  form  of  data  that  will,  first, 
enable  us  to  extend  and  perfect  the  scales  themselves; 
and  second,  give  us  a  reliable  answer  to  our  question 
discussed  in  an  earlier  chapter:  what  is  the  average  in- 
telligence of  man?  Present  indications  point  to  a  level 
much  below  our  assumed  level  of  16  years.  What- 
ever this  proves  to  be,  it  cannot  but  modify  profoundly 
our  views  of  the  relation  of  intelligence  to  citizenship. 
For  example  let  us  assume  for  the  sake  of  argument  that 
it  is  discovered  that  the  average  intelligence  of  the  army 
is  12  years — the  level  of  the  high  grade  feeble- 
minded, high  grade  moron.  We  could  conclude  that  the 
average  intelligence  of  the  whole  population  is  not  much, 
if  any,  above  this,  since  the  army  of  drafted  men  is  prob- 

[251] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ably  a  fair  sample  of  the  general  population.  We  seem 
to  be  impaled  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma :  either  half  the 
population  is  feeble-minded;  or  12  year  mentality  does 
not  properly  come  within  the  limits  of  feeble-mindedness. 
Of  the  two  possibilites  most  people  would  take  the  latter. 
Should  then  all  who  test  12  be  turned  out  of  our  institu- 
tions? We  do  not  think  so.  Such  findings  would  com- 
pel us  to  look  for  another  factor  than  mental  age  as  de- 
termining which  of  these  persons  of  12  year  mentality 
need  the  care  of  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded.  In- 
deed this  factor  is  already  recognized. 

Every  careful  student  of  feeble-mindedness  knows  that 
there  are  thousands  of  people  of  12  year  mentality  who 
are  getting  on  in  the  world  and  who  do  not  need  to  go  to 
an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded.  What  is  the  differ- 
ence between  these  and  those  who  must  be  cared  for  in 
an  institution?  There  is  no  definite  answer.  It  may  be 
any  one  of  several  factors.  It  may  be  that  vague  some- 
thing that  we  call  temperament.  It  may  be  the  accident 
of  a  favourable  environment.  In  any  borderline  condi- 
tion we  often  see  the  status  determined  by  a  slight  in- 
fluence. A  person  near  the  climax  of  a  disease  is  fre- 
quently saved  or  lost  by  the  slightest  favourable  or  un- 
favourable circumstance.  One  who  has  inherited  a  con- 
stitution favourable  to  tuberculosis  may  by  judicious 
selection  of  environment  (or  it  may  be  accidental)  en- 
tirely escape;  or  he  may  carelessly  get  into  an  environ- 
ment that  will  surely  prove  fatal.  Undoubtedly  many 
morons  are  in  a  favourable  environment. 

This  brings  us  to  the  view  that  we  have  expressed  else- 
where (20B)  that  perhaps  moronity  is  a  problem  of  edu- 
cation rather  than  of  segregation.  The  probable  dis- 
covery that  the  average  intelligence  of  the  army  and  the 

[252] 


MEASURING  INBORN  CAPACITY 

general  population  is  low — even  if  not  so  low  as  12 
years — would  certainly  force  us  to  this  view  and  to  this 
solution.  The  formula  would  then  be:  recognize  the 
mental  level  of  each  person ;  understand  its  significance ; 
educate  accordingly. 

The  theory  of  measuring  intelligence  has  sometimes 
been  misunderstood;  and  even  the  possibility  of  such 
measurement  has  been  denied.  Judge  Goff  of  New  York 
is  reported  to  have  said  in  connection  with  a  case  brot  be- 
fore him,  "You  can  no  more  measure  intelligence  than 
you  can  measure  electricity"! 

Needless  to  say  that  errors  of  this  kind  are  due  to  a 
misunderstanding  of  the  underlying  principles  of  the 
measuring  scales,  and  to  a  misconception  of  the  nature  of 
mind.  The  first  difficulty  comes  from  the  fact  that  we 
more  or  less  unconsciously  assume  that  in  measuring  in- 
telligence we  are  measuring  a  child's  attainments.  As  a 
result  of  this  error  it  is  constantly  objected  that 
"children  differ  so  much  in  their  opportunities,"  "in 
their  schooling"  and  "in  their  environments"  that  it  is 
impossible  to  compare  them.  One  even  hears  the  test 
questions  themselves  objected  to  on  the  ground  that  "my 
child  has  never  been  taught  that. ' '  The  irrelevancy  of  all 
this  appears  when  it  is  understood  that  in  using  mental 
tests  we  are  testing,  not  attainment  but  inborn  capacity. 

If  we  could  inspect  the  brain  of  the  living  subject  and 
determine  that  in  certain  areas  the  neurons  were  not  de- 
veloped, the  fact  would  be  accepted  as  easily  as  the 
physician's  diagnosis  when  he  says,  "This  boy's  heart  is 
weak."  Since  we  cannot  examine  the  neurons  we  are 
limited  to  noting  how  they  function.  But  from  what 
we  discover  in  that  way  we  can  infer  the  condition  of  the 
neurons  just  as  tho  we  had  seen  them. 

[253] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  theory  of  mental  tests  is  that  they  measure  in- 
born capacity  and  the  success  of  measuring  scales  de- 
pends upon  the  skill  with  which  tests  are  found  that  de- 
pend for  their  solution  upon  inborn  capacity  and  not 
upon  special  attainments.  For  example,  it  is  well  known 
that  the  ability  to  walk  depends  upon  the  development 
of  a  neuro-muscular  co-ordination  which  is  complete  nor- 
mally at  about  fourteen  months ;  that  no  amount  of  train- 
ing can  hasten  this  development  and  that  nothing  but 
the  most  extremely  unnatural  environment  can  prevent 
it  or  retard  it.  The  child  of  the  untutored  savage  learns 
to  walk  as  quickly  as  a  child  of  the  most  cultured  parents 
in  the  highest  civilization.  Playing  the  piano,  however, 
is  an  attainment,  an  accomplishment,  and  comes  only  as 
the  result  of  definite  purpose  and  practice.  If,  therefore, 
we  were  examining  a  ten  year  old  child  and  found  that 
he  could  not  walk,  we  should  properly  conclude  that 
there  was  something  wrong  with  his  development,  but 
the  fact  that  he  could  not  play  the  piano  would  have  no 
significance  whatever,  merely  indicating  that  here  was  an 
accomplishment  to  which  he  had  not  devoted  himself. 

There  is  no  better  evidence  of  the  limitations  of  our 
psychology  than  the  recognized  inability  to  decide  be- 
forehand whether  a  particular  test  measures  this  in- 
herent capacity  or  is  influenced  by  training  and  special 
environment.  We  can  indeed  rule  out  a  great  many  tests, 
such  as  piano  playing,  as  obviously  a  matter  of  educa- 
tion; but  beyond  that  we  are  largely  restricted  to  the 
laborious  process  of  trying  out  each  test  with  properly 
selected  groups  of  children  and  thus  ascertaining  to  what 
extent  training  affects  the  test. 

Nowhere  does  the  genius  of  Binet  show  more  clearly 
than  in  the  success  with  which  he  selected  tests,  which 

[254] 


THE  SQUARE  AND  DIAMOND  TESTS 

experience  has  proved  are  of  the  right  kind.  It  is  true 
that  not  all  of  his  tests  are  entirely  free  from  the  influence 
of  training;  but  very  few,  if  any,  are  so  much  influenced 
as  to  be  useless.  Perhaps  'the  best  illustration  of  an  ideal 
test  is  Binet's  " copying  the  square"  and  " copying  the 
diamond."  Experience  seems  to  demonstrate  clearly 
that  the  ability  to  do  these  tests  depends  upon  a  neuro- 
muscular  development  either  of  the  eye  or  of  the  hand  or 
both,  somewhat  comparable  to  the  co-ordination  neces- 
sary for  walking.  A  child  can  copy  a  square  at  the  age 
of  five,  he  does  not  copy  the  diamond  until  the  age  of 
seven.  The  difference  is  apparently  due  to  the  fact  that 
horizontal  and  vertical  lines  are  both  seen  and  drawn  by 
relatively  simple  muscular  co-ordination,  while  oblique 
lines  require  a  double  co-ordination  both  for  seeing  and 
for  drawing.  That  it  is  a  matter  of  eye  movement  in 
following  the  lines  more  than  of  hand  movement  in  draw- 
ing them,  would  seem  to  be  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
many  a  child  who  has  drawn  the  square  with  reason- 
able accuracy  declares  the  moment  he  looks  at  the  dia- 
mond, that  he  cannot  draw  it.  Often  he  will  not  even 
try  to  draw  it. 

The  accompanying  illustrations  Fig.  48,  are  reproduc- 
tions of  the  attempts  of  children  of  ages  five,  six,  seven, 
and  eight  years  to  copy  these  forms.  A  two-inch  square 
is  placed  in  front  of  the  child  and  he  is  asked  to  draw  one 
like  it;  then  a  diamond  of  the  same  size  is  given  him. 
Plenty  of  time  is  allowed.  Often  the  child  is  urged  to 
make  successive  trials  tho  only  the  first  is  scored  *  except 
when  he  himself  sees  his  failure  and  asks  for  a  second 
trial.  It  rarely  happens  that  the  second  trial  is  accept- 
able tho  sometimes  a  little  better  than  the  first. 

i  Terman  gives  three  trials  and  scores  the  best  one. 

[255] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

The  reader  is  urged  to  study  these  forms  carefully. 
Note  the  good  square  and  beside  it  the  same  child's 
failure  on  the  diamond;  these  failures  ranging  from  al- 
most success  (one  or  two  were  credited  to  the  child's 
score  tho  counted  here  as  failures  to  make  sure  that  the 
percentages  were  conservative)  to  absolute  failure — a 
mere  line.  The  beginning  is  often  good;  frequently  the 
upper  half  of  the  diamond  is  excellent  only  to  be  spoiled 
by  a  single  line,  straight  or  curved,  for  the  lower  half. 
The  last  "diamond"  in  second  column  of  six-year  old 
children  is  a  type  frequently  found.  It  shows  lack  of  co- 
ordination necessary  to  make  the  hand  go  where  the  eye 
shows  that  it  should  go — compare  your  own  attempt  to 
draw  a  diamond  seen  in  a  mirror. 

That  these  two  tests  depend  upon  inherent  capacity 
and  not  upon  training  is  evidenced  by  two  facts,  first, 
the  normal  child  of  eight  years  or  older  copies  the  figures 
without  ever  having  been  taught;  and  second,  a  feeble- 
minded child  or  a  child  just  a  little  below  the  proper  age 
as  a  rule  cannot  be  taught  to  copy  them. 

A  study  of  this  point  by  Miss  Elizabeth  Foote  of  the 
Vineland  Laboratory  gives  the  following  results: 

Mental  Age  45678 

Number  of  Cases  34873 

Per  cent,  trained  33    50    75  100  100 

Apparently  the  chronologically  older  oases  have 
greater  difficulty  in  learning  to  draw  the  diamond.  At 
mental  age  5  the  failures  average  17  years  chronologi- 
cally, the  successes  average  11  years. 

At  mental  age  6,  the  failures  average  twenty-nine  years 
chronologically,  the  successes  average  eighteen  years. 

[256] 


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Fig.  48.  C.  Seven  year  old  children.  Of  320  chil- 
dren 256  copied  the  diamond  satisfactorily.  Up- 
per section  shows  5  samples.  Middle  section: 
26  more  or  less  unsatisfactory.  Lower  section : 
44  failures. 

Fig.  48.   D.  Eight  year  old  children.     Shows  the  14 
failures  out  of  150  children.     The  remaining  136 
copied  diamond  satisfactorily. 
From  original  records  in  the  Vineland  Laboratory 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  TIME  TESTS 

The  4-year  olds  (mentally)  who  failed  were  absolutely 
unable  to  draw  the  oblique  lines. 

The  average  time  required  to  teach  those  who  finally 
succeeded  was :  Mental  age  6,  44  minutes ;  Mental  age  7, 
26  minutes ;  Mental  age  8,  20  minutes. 

Let  us  examine  a  few  more  of  these  test  questions  with 
the  view  to  clearing  up  some  of  the  difficulties  commonly 
met  with.  Binet  has  introduced  four  questions  involving 
the  development  of  the  ability  to  appreciate  time.  These 
questions  have  been  as  much  objected  to  as  any  in  the  list, 
apparently  because  the  real  nature  of  the  test  is  not 
understood.  Because  we  sometimes  teach  the  days  of  the 
week,  days  of  the  month,  months  of  the  year,  it  is  assumed 
that  they  would  never  be  learned  if  we  did  not  teach  them. 

Binet  discovered  that  the  appreciation  of  the  passage 
of  time  develops  with  age.  To  the  young  child  time  is 
nothing.  Gradually  he  comes  to  appreciate  time  in  small 
quantities.  As  his  development  proceeds  he  has  need 
for  measuring  time  in  increasingly  larger  quantities. 
The  first  stage  is  the  appreciation  of  the  difference  be- 
tween forenoon  and  afternoon.  This  comes  at  six  years 
of  age.  In  other  words  the  child  of  six,  living  in  any 
ordinary  environment,  has  acquired  enough  experience 
to  find  it  useful  to  make  the  distinction  between  morning 
and  afternoon.  If,  in  the  morning,  he  is  told  that  he 
may  do  something  in  the  afternoon,  he  is  able  to  ap- 
preciate when  that  will  be;  or  in  the  afternoon  he  can 
recall  what  happened  in  the  forenoon  of  that  day.  Be- 
cause that  is  useful  to  him,  it  gets  into  his  consciousness 
as  a  part  of  his  working  experience.  Bat  he  cannot  yet, 
nor  can  he  for  two  years,  comprehend  so  large  a  division 
of  time  as  a  week.  Consequently  he  has  no  use  for 
Mondays  and  Tuesdays  and  Wednesdays.  At  the  age 

[257] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

of  eight,  however,  he  has  developed  to  this  stage  and 
without  ever  having  been  taught,  he  has,  thru  the  prac- 
tical experiences  of  life,  learned  that  Tuesday  comes 
after  Monday  and  then  comes  Wednesday,  and  so  on. 

It  is  unfortunate  perhaps  that,  thru  a  mistaken 
pedagogy,  we  are  in  the  habit  of  teaching  the  days  of 
the  week.  We  say  unfortunate  advisedly  because  it  is  a 
waste  of  time,  has  no  value  for  the  child;  for,  altho  he 
can  recite  the  days  of  the  week,  they  mean  nothing  to 
him  until  he  has  developed  to  that  stage  where  he  ap- 
preciates this  larger  period  of  time  and  realizes  the 
value  of  sub-dividing  it  into  days  each  with  its  own  name. 
When  he  has  arrived  at  that  development  he  will  learn 
the  days  of  the  week  without  being  taught  them.  In 
another  year  his  appreciation  of  time  has  enlarged 
so  that  he  has  some  use  for  the  divisions  of  the  year. 
Previous  to  nine  years  of  age,  years  are  little  more  than 
words  to  children,  and  months  as  divisions  of  the  year 
are  meaningless.  Gilbert,  mentality  7,  age  twenty-seven, 
being  asked  how  often  Washington's  birthday  came,  said 
he  thot  once  in  two  years.  This  is  pure  verbalism;  he 
had  no  conception  whatever.  With  this  appreciation  of 
the  year  and  the  division  into  months  the  child  has  all 
the  elements  for  the  date;  so  that  at  the  age  of  nine  he  is 
able  to  give  the  exact  date  with  reasonable  accuracy ;  that 
is,  with  that  same  leeway  of  two  or  three  days  which 
almost  any  of  us  may  at  times  require. 

Objection  has  been  made  to  this  test,  based  upon  the 
superficial  observation  that  we  adults  sometimes,  when 
on  a  vacation,  pay  no  attention  to  the  passage  of  the  days 
and  lose  count;  therefore,  why  expect  a  child  to  know. 
Aside  from  the  general  fact  that  there  is  no  arguing 
from  the  adult  to  the  child,  we  have  the  very  interesting 

[258] 


MISCONCEPTIONS 

fact  that  the  part  of  the  date  most  difficult  for  the  child 
is  not  the  day  of  the  month  (within  two  or  three  days, 
as  we  have  already  indicated)  nor  yet  the  month  itself, 
but  the  year.  One  often  gets  the  answer  to  the  question. 
"What  is  the  date?"  "The  20th"  (correct).  "Yes^ 
what  month?"  "I  don't  know."  A  little  older  child 
will  say;  "April  20th."  "Yes,  what  year?"  "I  don't 
know."  Sometimes  it  goes  like  this:  "What  is  the 
date?"  "The  20th."  "Yes,  what  month?"  "April." 
"Yes,  what  year?"  After  some  delay  "1918."  If  it  is 
January  or  February,  1918,  he  may  say  1917.  Probably 
no  adult  in  his  right  mind  ever  had  sufficiently  long  vaca- 
tion to  forget  what  year  it  was! 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  average  normal  child  de- 
velops these  capacities  at  about  the  ages  stated.  There- 
fore these  questions  in  regard  to  time  are  valuable 
measures  of  the  child's  development.  It  is  true,  as  in- 
dicated, that  teaching  may  enable  the  child  to  recite 
days  of  the  week  and  months  of  year  some  time  before 
he  has  the  actual  appreciation  of  their  meaning.  This 
can  usually  be  checked,  however,  by  a  little  questioning 
such  as,  "What  day  comes  before  Wednesday,  etc.,  or 
what  month  comes  before  December?" 

These  tests  also  illustrate  another  point  that  is  often 
missed  when  considering  tests  of  intelligence.  Some  per- 
sons have  felt  it  desirable  to  analyse  the  tests  and  deter- 
mine what  is  tested  by  each  question;  whether  memory, 
attention,  imagination,  reasoning,  judgment,  or  what-not. 
We  have  explained  what  the  above  questions  test,  but  to 
show  that  they  do  not  test  mere  memory,  the  following 
experience  may  be  worth  recording.  "A  child  who  was 
being  examined  was  asked,  in  course,  to  give  the  date. 
He  was  totally  unable  to  do  so.  The  child's  teacher,  who 

[259] 


was  observing,  interrupted  to  say,  'Why,  Willie,  you 
know  the  date.  What  was  it  you  wrote  at  the  head  of 
your  paper  this  morning  f '  Whereat  the  child  gave  cor- 
rectly the  date.  When  it  was  written  down,  the  teacher, 
drew  a  circle  around  the  figures  indicating  the  year  and 
pointing  to  it,  said  to  the  child,  'What  does  that  part 
mean?'  He  looked  at  it  intently  for  some  seconds  and 
then  said  inquiringly,  'Spring'?  It  is  evident  that  the 
child,  given  the  proper  cue,  remembered  what  he  had 
written  at  the  top  of  his  paper  that  morning.  This  to 
the  teacher  was  the  date,  but  to  the  child  it  was  nothing 
but  words  and  figures.  He  could  not  give  the  date  be- 
cause he  had  not  come  to  that  mental  development  that 
enabled  him  to  grasp  and  appreciate  the  fact  that  time 
is  divided  into  years,  months  and  days." 

We  have  emphasized  the  point  that  children  acquire 
the  ability  to  do  many  things  without  being  taught — copy 
square  and  diamond,  appreciating  time — forenoon,  after- 
noon, days  of  week  and  months  of  year.  Another  study 
by  Miss  Foote  shows  this  very  clearly.  The  opposing 
of  thumb  to  fingers  is  rarely  if  ever  taught.  Yet  it  is 
seen  to  have  a  very  regular  development.  The  follow- 
ing table  shows  the  results  of  testing  176  normal  Public 
School  children  and  111  feeble-minded  children.  Public 
School  children  were  from  the  first  four  grades,  and  de- 
fectives mostly  between  the  chronological  ages  of  eight 
to  forty-seven. 

It  will  be  seen  that  all  Public  School  children  can 
do  this  at  age  seven  and  all  defectives  at  age  eight.  It  is 
also  seen  that  sight  helps  only  a  little — the  positions  out 
of  sight — behind  back — being  done  by  almost  as  many  rs 
those  in  front.  Both  hands  at  once  is  also  a  little  more 
difficult  than  one  at  a  time. 

[260] 


THUMB-FINGER  OPPOSITION 

THUMB-FINGER  OPPOSITION.    PERCENT  PEBFECT. 
PUBLIC  SCHOOL. 

R.  Front     R.  Back      L.  Front    L.  Back  Both  Front  Both  Back 

5  91  80  94  74  74  60 

6  98  93  98  93  83  90 

7  100  100  100  100  100  100 

8  100  100  100  100  100  100 

9  100  100  100  100  94  94 
10  100  100  100  100  100  100 

Mental  INSTITUTION  FOB  FEEBLE  MINDED. 
Age 

2  33  33  17  17  17  8 

3  37  25  37  12  12  12 

4  53  40  53  40  40  26 

5  77  44  66  77  77  44 

6  93  93  93  93  80  80 

7  96  92  96  92  92  92 

8  100       100       100       100       100       100 

9  100      100      100      100      100      100 

The  reader  will  do  well  to  keep  in  mind  that  measuring 
scales  of  intelligence  test  intelligence;  not  attention,  or 
memory,  or  reasoning,  or  any  other  one  thing. 

It  has  already  been  suggested  that  intelligence  is 
adaptation  to  environment.  If  we  accept  this,  we  must 
conclude  that  a  test  of  intelligence  is  a  test  of  a  person's 
ability  to  adapt  himself  to  a  situation;  and  the  grade  of 
intelligence,  the  mental  level,  or  mental  age,  is  determined 
when  we  ascertain  the  highest  degree  of  complexity  of 
environment  to  which  he  can  adapt  himself,  in  terms  of  the 
age  of  the  average  person  who  can  just  adapt  himself 
to  the  same  environment.  To  revert  to  our  questions  of 
time,  when  we  ask  a  child,  "What  is  the  date?"  we  are 
attempting  to  ascertain  if  he  can  adapt  himself  to  his 
environment  as  well  as  nine  year  old  children  usually 
can,  when  they  need  to  use  the  date. 

We  have  said  that  tests  of  intelligence  do  not  test 
memory,  reasoning,  etc.  To  avoid  misunderstanding  let 

[261] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

us  explain  more  fully.  Tests  of  intelligence  of  the  higher 
levels  must  necessarily  test  ability  to  make  adaptations 
that  involve  the  use  of  the  mental  processes  memory, 
imagination,  reasoning,  etc.  But  this  is  very  different 
from  testing  these  processes  themselves.  Let  us  take  a 
somewhat  imperfect  analogy.  Suppose  we  wish  to 
measure  a  man's  efficiency  as  a  citizen — good  citizenship. 
We  ascertain  how  much  money  he  has ;  what  knowledge  of 
civic  duties,  of  public  affairs,  of  science,  of  esthetics; 
what  his  ideas  of  honesty,  truthfulness  and  friendship 
are;  and  as  many  more  " elements"  as  we  wish.  Have 
we  measured  his  citizenship!  Obviously  not.  The  real 
question  is,  how  does  he  use  all  these?  He  may  have 
millions  of  money,  but  if  he  never  uses  any  of  it  for  civic 
purposes  he  is  a  poor  citizen.  He  may  have  the  most 
correct  ideas  of  honesty,  but  if  he  does  not  practise  it, 
he  is  not  a  good  citizen.  He  may  have  very  little  money 
or  education,  and  yet  be  high  in  the  scale  of  citizenship.. 
Not  what  a  man  has  but  how  he  uses  it ! 

The  weakness  of  the  foregoing  analogy  lies  in  the  fact 
that  it  seems  to  grant  too  much.  Even  if  memory,  rea- 
soning, etc.,  were  entities  like  money,  education  and  the 
rest,  the  measurement  of  them  would  not  measure  a  man's 
intelligence  since  the  real  question  would  be  how  does  he 
use  them.  James  sums  it  all  up  in  a  sentence:  "The 
total  mental  efficiency  of  a  man  is  the  resultant  of  the 
working  together  of  all  his  faculties."  Therefore  in 
measuring  intelligence  we  must  have  the  mind  at  work. 
This  every  good  test  does. 

We  have  emphasized  the  fact  that  mental  tests  test 
the  degree  of  development  of  the  natural  endowments  in 
distinction  from  the  acquisitions  or  attainments.  There 
are,  however,  tests  of  the  latter.  These  are  called 

[262] 


DIAGNOSIS 

pedagogical  tests,  or  special  ability  tests.  The  reader 
who  has  followed  the  psychology  of  Part  I,  will  ap- 
preciate that  both  of  these  involve  mentality.  A  child 
may  not  be  up  to  standard  sixth  grade  work  in  school 
for  one  of  two  reasons;  either  because  he  has  not  been 
to  school,  or  because  he  has  not  the  inherent  capacity. 
It  is  often  possible  to  evaluate  the  two  factors.  That 
is,  it  is  possible  to  ascertain  whether  the  child  has  been 
in  school  six  years  or  not.  If  he  has  attended  school 
six  years  under  normal,  ordinary  conditions  and  is  not 
up  to  sixth  grade,  it  is  fair  to  assume  that  his  failure 
is  due  to  lack  of  mentality  unless  some  other  explana- 
tion is  known.  It  consequently  comes  about  that 
pedagogical  tests  and  even  school  experience  are  often 
a  valuable  indication  of  the  mental  level  of  the  child. 

In  conclusion  we  may  say  that  the  measurement  of 
the  mental  level  is  an  assured  fact.  Moreover  for  the 
average  child  almost  any  one  of  the  current  scales  is  en- 
tirely satisfactory  and  gives  the  trained  person  all  the 
information  he  needs.  It  is  the  exceptional  case,  the 
border-line  case,  or  the  diseased  child,  that  constitutes 
the  problem  for  the  psycho-clinician.  In  such  cases  one 
has  all  the  difficulties  that  confront  the  physician  in 
diagnosing  an  obscure  disease  with  complications.  The' 
greatest  care  must  be  exercised;  all  possible  data  must 
be  secured  and  a  diagnosis  given  with  caution.  But 
the  fact  that  there  are  exceptional  and  difficult  cases, 
and  even  that  mistakes  are  made,  should  not  deter  us 
from  extending  the  work  of  ascertaining  the  mental  level 
of  all  children — and  ultimately  of  all  adults — for  the  pur- 
pose of  fitting  every  man  intelligently  to  his  work. 


[263] 


CHAPTER  III 
INTELLIGENCE  AND  WILL 

IN  the  application  of  our  psychology  to  the  care,  train- 
ing and  management  of  persons  of  undeveloped  mind, 
many  problems  are  simplified  by  a  clear  understanding 
of  the  relations  of  will  to  intelligence.  Much  unneces- 
sary anxiety  exists,  in  the  minds  of  those  who  have  the 
training  of  such  persons,  from  the  common  belief  that 
will  is  a  power  possessed  by  the  individual  sometimes 
feebly  and  sometimes  to  a  great  degree — a  concept,  it 
must  be  admitted,  not  wholly  dissipated  by  current 
psychology. 

Fortunately  the  old  religious  dogma  that  the  child's 
will  must  be  broken  has  almost  passed  away.  The  idea 
still  prevails,  however,  that  there  is  a  will  that  must  be 
carefully  trained  and  directed  and  that  it  is  so  little 
understood  as  to  be  largely  a  matter  of  chance  whether 
such  training  and  direction  will  be  successful.  When  it  is 
clearly  recognized  that  will  is  only  an  abstraction,  ex- 
pressive of  the  fact  that  one  is  capable  of  volitional  or 
selective  action,  the  difficulty  largely  disappears.  We 
have  seen  that  volitional  action  results  when  a  natural 
impulse  is  met  by  an  opposing  impulse  or  by  a  tendency 
to  an  acquired  action  which  conflicts  with  the  original 
impulse. 

In  the  words  of  Prof.  James,  "Voluntary  action  then  is 
at  all  times  a  resultant  of  the  compounding  of  our  im- 
pulsions with  our  inhibitions."  James  has  also  shown 
that  will  is  dependent  upon  ideas,  .attention  and  habit  of 

[264] 


IMPULSE  OF  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

action,  all  of  which  he  sums  up  in  a  sentence  previously 
quoted,  "To  think,  in  short,  is  the  secret  of  will  just  as 
it  is  the  secret  of  memory."  From  all  this  the  conclusion 
is  easy,  that  the  way  to  control  and  direct  the  will  is  (1) 
to  furnish  plenty  of  suitable  ideas,  (2)  to  connect  those 
ideas  by  proper  association  processes  so  that  they  will 
arouse  consciousness  in  the  state  of  active  attention ;  and 
(3)  to  develop  right  habits  of  action.  It  might  seem  to 
be  unnecessary  to  say  more;  but  there  is  another  consid- 
eration that  will  be  helpful  in  this  connection. 

Much  of  what  is  properly  considered  will  is  psychologi- 
cally only  impulse.  Whether  there  are  wide  differences 
in  the  strength  of  impulses  in  different  individuals,  or 
whether  the  apparent  difference  is  only  due  to  a  differ- 
ence in  the  control  exercised,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  There 
seems,  however,  to  be  no  good  reason  to  deny  that  there 
may  be  very  wide  individual  differences.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  solution  of  the  problem,  as  Prof.  James's 
dictum  clearly  implies,  is  to  build  up  inhibitions,  that  is, 
counteracting  ideas.  The  idiot  is  entirely  a  creature  of 
impulse,  since  he  has  few  ideas  and  what  few  he  has 
cannot  be  connected  with  the  impulses  by  any  natural 
association,  because  he  is  deficient  in  association  neurons. 

In  the  case  of  the  imbecile,  the  difficulty  is  only  slightly 
decreased.  He  has  a  few  more  ideas,  it  is  true,  but  it  is 
difficult  to  connect  them  with  the  impulses  in  such  a  way 
that  the  latter  are  controlled.  To  say  it  is  difficult,  is 
not  to  say  that  it  is  impossible.  It  is  not  impossible ;  but 
it  can  only  be  done  with  the  greatest  effort,  most  constant 
attention  and  constant  direction.  The  normal  person 
sees  the  consequences  of  his  impulsive  act ;  and  those  con- 
sequences, being  remembered,  on  a  later  occasion  act  as 
inhibitors.  With  the  imbecile  the  consequences  must  be 

[265] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

definitely  pointed  out  and  the  connection  firmly  made  by 
constant  repetition. 

With  the  moron  the  problem  is  more  hopeful  but  still 
requires  long  and  painstaking  effort  and  great  care  in 
the  building  of  proper  associations.  Even  with  the  dull 
normals  there  are  still  difficulties,  due  probably  more  to 
the  early  formation  of  unfortunate  habits  than  to  any 
lack  of  ideas  or  failure  to  connect  them  with  the  im- 
pulse. 

Since  the  ideas,  attention  and  action  upon  which  will 
depends  are  the  elements  which  enter  into  intelligence, 
it  follows  that  if  we  know  the  intelligence  level  of  an 
individual  we  know  by  far  the  largest  factor  of  his  will. 
The  other  factor  is  his  habit  of  action.  (For  the  effect 
of  emotion  see  the  next  chapter.)  Knowing  these  two 
factors,  the  intelligent  person  can  estimate  to  a  nicety 
how  much  volitional  action  a  particular  individual  will 
exercise  in  any  particular  situation. 

Moreover,  it  is  significant  that  such  foresight  is  con- 
stantly used  by  intelligent  people  in  managing  their  re- 
lations to  other  people.  Take  a  single  example :  X  owes 
$100  to  each  of  three  men  A,  B,  and  C.  The  debts  to  A 
and  B  are  of  long  standing  and  ought  to  be  paid.  X 
comes  into  possession  of  $100  and  has  to  decide  which 
one  of  the  three  he  will  pay.  He  reasons  as  follows: 
"I'll  not  bother  with  A  because  he  does  not  know  how  to 
proceed  to  collect  the  money,  consequently  will  not  trouble 
me.  B  is  a  lawyer  and  knows  how  to  collect,  but  he  is  not 
in  the  habit  of  bringing  suit  for  bad  debts,  consequently 
he  will  not  disturb  me.  C  is  a  hard  headed  business  man. 
He  knows  how  to  collect  his  debts  and  he  is  in  the  habit  of 
doing  it.  If  I  don't  pay  him  he  will  make  me  trouble. 
Therefore  I  shall  pay  C."  From  the  standpoint  of 

[266] 


THE  MORAL  IMBECILE 

psychology,  A  and  B  are  weak  willed  for  different  reasons 
— A  from  a  lack  of  ideas ;  B  from  lack  of  the  habit  of  ac- 
tion. In  this  particular  direction,  C  is  strong  willed  in 
this  particular  matter  because  he  has  the  ideas  and  the 
habit  of  action. 

The  old  doctrine  of  will-breaking  can  be  defended  only 
on  the  following  assumptions:  First,  that  will  means 
impulse ;  second,  that  it  is  impulse  toward  a  line  of  action 
that  is  indubitably  bad;  and  third,  that  the  "breaking" 
consists  in  building  up  a  set  of  experiences  which  result 
in  inhibitions  that  will  control  the  impulse.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  there  are  apparently  many  instances  where 
it  is  exceedingly  difficult  and  requires  greaflt  intelligence 
to  accomplish  this  result. 

The  Moral  Imbecile.  A  consideration  of  the  moral  im- 
becile will  further  illustrate  some  of  the  points  discussed 
in  the  previous  paragraphs. 

In  the  older  literature  on  feeble-mindedness  can  be 
found  discussions  of  a  type  of  defective  described  as 
having  normal  intellectual  faculties  but  lacking  moral 
faculties.  A  person  of  this  type,  tho  he  evidently  had 
normal  intelligence,  would  lie,  steal,  commit  sex  offences 
or  other  immoralities  in  spite  of  punishment  and  all  ef- 
forts to  correct  the  tendency. 

Perhaps  we  should  first  ask  the  question,  are  there 
such  beings!  To  which  the  answer  must  be  given,  it  is 
somewhat  doubtful.  It  is  now  accepted  by  those  who 
have  studied  feeble-mindedness,  that  a  large  proportion 
of  the  so-called  moral  imbeciles  are  not  of  normal  intelli- 
gence. The  explanation  of  the  old  view,  that  such  per- 
sons are  normal  intellectually,  is  found  in  the  fact  that 
they  are  of  relatively  high  intelligence,  and  in  the  earlier 
days  when  less  accurate  methods  of  measuring  intelli- 

[267] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

gence  were  known,  and  when  the  typical  mental  defective 
was  the  idiot  or  the  low  grade  imbecile,  these  high  grade 
defectives  easily  passed  for  normal,  just  as  today  the 
morons  pass  for  normal  with  the  layman. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  apparently  must  be  admitted  that 
there  are  persons  who  do  not  at  all  come  within  the 
present  definition  of  feeble-mindedness,  and  yet  who  seem 
to  lack  what  we  popularly  call  moral  sense.  It  goes  with- 
out saying  that  the  old  explanation  of  "normal  in- 
tellectual faculties"  and  "lacking  in  moral  faculties"  is 
no  longer  permissible,  since  neither  does  psychology  allow 
that  there  are  intellectual  faculties  nor  does  modern 
ethics  allow  the  concept  of  moral  faculties.  Morals  are 
merely  volitional  actions  in  accordance  with  the  customs 
of  the  social  group ;  hence  this  comes  under  the  problem 
of  the  will  which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  mainly 
a  question  of  intelligence.  Logically  then,  a  person  who 
has  normal  intelligence  should  be  able  to  so  control  his 
action  as  to  be  "moral"  rather  than  "immoral."  It 
must  be  admitted  that  little  is  understood  of  this  type  of 
immoral  person  and  in  this  field  little  is  to  be  gained  from 
speculation. 

Future  studies  of  this  problem  will  probably  have  to 
deal  with  the  habit  of  action  and  must  ascertain  whether 
these  are  cases  where  an  unusually  strong  habit  has  been 
developed  before  attempts  were  made  to  supply  ideas  and 
furnish  inhibitions.  Also  investigations  must  be  under- 
taken to  determine  what  efforts  have  been  made  to  de- 
velop inhibitions.  The  question  inevitably  arises  when 
one  meets  a  "moral  imbecile,"  "What  efforts  have  been 
made  to  correct  these  tendencies?  Was  the  child  ever 
punished?  Did  he  ever  suffer  the  consequences  of  his 
action?"  The  answers  that  one  gets  are  usually  either 

[268] 


THE  PROBLEM  UNSOLVED 

vague  or  of  uncertain  application.  One  father  says, 
1  'Yes,  I  have  whipped  him  until  I  was  ashamed  to  whip 
him  any  more. "  In  which  case  one  has  the  natural  doubt 
as  to  whether  whipping  is  the  kind  of  inhibition  that 
should  have  been  applied. 

Healy  has  introduced  the  expressions  pathological 
liars,  and  pathological  thieves.  Perhaps  we  should  con- 
sider these  cases  also  pathological.  Perhaps  there  is  a 
lesion  in  the  brain  which  has  destroyed  the  specific  as- 
sociation neurons  (if  there  are  such)  which  should  as- 
sociate action  with  its  consequences  and  thus  bring  about 
the  inhibition.  It  is  a  possibility  that  our  concepts  of 
arrest  of  development  might  be  made  to  cover  the  case 
by  assuming  such  a  definite  localization  of  the  arrest 
as  to  account  for  the  condition  found.  That  is  to  say, 
instead  of  there  being  a  general  arrest  of  development 
of  the  neurons  of  the  association  areas,  there  may  have 
been  a  narrowly  limited,  localized  arrest  of  certain  fibres 
which  connect  the  centres  that  give  rise  to  the  impulse 
to  lie  or  steal  with  those  centres  which  give  the  conscious- 
ness of  consequences.  This,  however,  is  a  difficult  concept 
in  view  of  what  we  know  of  the  growth  of  the  cortex,  and 
until  we  have  more  definite  clinical  evidence  it  can  give 
little  satisfaction. 


[269] 


CHAPTER  IV 
INTELLIGENCE  AND  EMOTION 

IN  the  previous  chapter  we  have  discussed  some  of  the 
implications  of  the  relation  of  intelligence  to  will.  We 
now  come  to  the  consideration  of  a  problem  that  is  still 
more  in  need  of  elucidation.  We  perhaps  cannot  better 
bring  the  problem  before  the  reader  than  by  quoting  the 
oft  heard  remark,  "It  is  not  enough  to  know  a  child's 
intelligence,  his  mental  level,  but  we  ought  also  to  know 
his  emotional  life.  Tests  of  intelligence  are  not  enough, 
we  must  also  have  tests  of  the  emotions."  This  view  has 
far  more  to  justify  it  than  the  views  about  the  will 
already  discussed. 

While  to  the  lay  mind  the  part  that  the  emotions  play 
in  human  life  may  not  seem  to  be  any  greater  than  that 
played  by  the  will,  yet  when  we  come  to  the  physical  basis 
of  the  problem  we  find  an  absolute  difference.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  nervous  system  that  can  by  any  pos- 
sibility be  considered  the  organ  of  will,  but  there  is  a  very 
definite,  elaborate  and  complicated  nervous  system  that 
has  been  definitely  recognized  by  Mosso  as  the  "seat  of 
the  emotions";  namely,  the  sympathetic  system.  More- 
over, definite  connections  have  been  established,  as  we 
have  already  shown,  between  this  sympathetic  system  and 
the  glands  of  internal  secretion,  by  which  they  are  known 
to  react  upon  each  other.  Since  it  is  easy  to  conceive  of 
differences  in  structure  and  function  of  the  sympathetic 
system  and  the  glands,  and  since  we  have  the  clinical 
evidence  in  at  least  one  case, — that  of  the  effect  of  the 

[270] 


INTELLIGENCE  CONTROLS  EMOTION 

absence,  or  the  hypertrophy  of  the  thyroid  gland  produc- 
ing the  symptoms  recognized  as  cretinism, — it  is  not  only 
logical,  but  we  are  practically  forced  to  accept  the  view 
that  there  must  be  enormous  individual  differences  in  the 
emotional  life  of  individuals  and  that  such  differences,  be- 
ing fundamental  and  inherent,  are  not  easily  regulated 
but  must  be  reckoned  with.  From  this  it  seems  logical 
to  conclude  that  until  we  can  understand  conditions  in 
this  realm  and  analyze  and  measure  the  emotions,  it  is 
unsafe  to  conclude  that  we  know  all  about  the  individual. 

However,  the  situation  is  not  nearly  so  bad  as  it  at 
first  appears.  It  is  a  common  experience  in  all  science, 
when  there  are  two  factors,  one  of  which  is  unknown  and 
uncontrollable,  to  more  or  less  successfully  control  the 
situation  by  manipulating  the  other  factor.  A  chemist 
has  a  solution  and  finds  by  simple  tests  that  it  contains 
an  acid.  He  does  not  know  what  acid  or  how  much  of  it 
is  present.  He  can  neither  filter  it  out  nor  allow  for  it, 
but  he  can  neutralize  it  and  render  it  harmless  by  adding 
an  alkali.  It  is  one  of  the  fundamental  facts  of  psy- 
chology that  there  are  two  phases  of  mind,  the  intellectual 
and  the  emotional,  each  so  important  and  so  strong  that 
we  commonly  speak  of  an  emotional  life  and  an  intel- 
lectual life. 

But  a  further  fact  is  not  so  commonly  recognized; 
namely,  it  is  a  scientific  fact  and  a  common  experience 
that  the  intellectual  life  regularly  controls,  to  some  de- 
gree, the  emotional  life,  and  probably  is  capable  of  com- 
plete control  of  action  no  matter  what  the  condition  of  the 
emotion.  From  this  the  conclusion  is  inevitable  that  if 
there  is  little  intelligence  there  will  be  little  control, 
whether  the  emotional  life  is  strong  or  weak.  If  the 
chemist's  solution  is  decidedly  acid  and  he  has  only  a 

[271] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

single  drop  of  weak  alkali,  we  can  predict  with  certainty 
that  he  will  not  be  able  to  neutralize  or  control  the  acid. 

We  have  drawn  some  hypothetical  pictures  for  the  sake 
of  illustrating  how  the  neuron  action  of  the  cerebro-spinal 
nervous  system  influences,  and  is  influenced  by,  the 
sympathetic  system.  We  shall  not  go  further  into  that 
subject  at  the  present  time,  but  shall  confine  ourselves 
to  reminding  the  reader  of  some  of  the  instances  which 
show  (1)  that  the  intelligence  controls  the  emotions  and 
(2)  that  the  emotions  are  controlled  in  proportion  to  the 
degree  of  intelligence.  It  follows  that  if  there  is  little 
intelligence  the  emotions  will  be  uncontrolled  and  whether 
they  be  strong  or  weak  will  result  in  actions  that  are  un- 
regulated, uncontrolled  and,  as  experience  proves,  usually 
undesirable.  Therefore,  when  we  measure  the  intelli- 
gence of  an  individual  and  learn  that  he  has  so  much 
less  than  normal  as  to  come  within  the  group  that  we  call 
feeble-minded,  we  have  ascertained  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant fact  about  him.  While  not  denying  that  it  would 
be  highly  desirable  to  know  more  about  his  emotional  life, 
to  be  able  to  measure  it  and  evaluate  it  and  determine  its 
influence  upon  the  intellectual  life,  we  may  yet  satisfy 
ourselves  that  a  knowledge  of  the  intellectual  condition 
gives  us,  within  limits,  enough  information  for  our 
guidance  in  the  care,  control  and  regulation  of  such  defec- 
tive individuals. 

We  have  already  cited,  page  146,  McDougall's  view 
of  the  way  in  which  the  primary  emotions  are  normally 
modified.  We  have  also  called  attention  to  the  wonder- 
ful power  of  ideas  in  increasing  emotions.  Let  us  con- 
sider still  another  case.  Three  or  four  people  are  con- 
versing; one  of  them  utters  a  sentence  which  produces 
practically  no  effect  upon  A,  arouses  a  strong  sense  of 

[272] 


EXPERIENCE  MODIFIES  EMOTION 

humour  in  B,  and  an  intense  emotion  of  anger  in  C. 
The  explanation  is  obvious.  The  resultant  emotion  or 
lack  of  emotion  depends  upon  the  ideas  with  which  each 
one  has  received  the  remark.  A  has  no  experience  which 
can  combine  with  the  remark  and  make  it  especially 
significant.  In  B  it  calls  up  a  whole  train  of  ideas  and 
experiences  so  connected,  so  related  to  him  and  his  wel- 
fare, that  it  arouses  an  intense  degree  of  pleasure.  C, 
on  the  other  hand,  has  had  the  opposite  experience.  He 
may  see  in  the  remark  a  significance  that  touches  him  or 
his  family  in  a  way  that  means  decided  annoyance  or  dis- 
comfort. He  is  accordingly  angry.  Without  their  re- 
spective experiences  B  and  C  might  have  been  as  passive 
as  was  A.  It  is  unnecessary  to  multiply  instances,  the 
experience  is  so  familiar  that  every  one  must  recognize 
it. 

Let  us  take  a  little  different  example  and  see  how  the 
situation  and  experience  modifies  the  emotion.  A  man  is 
alone  in  the  forest  and  meets  a  wild  and  ferocious  animal. 
He  may  easily  be  " paralysed  with  fear"  but  if  he  has  a 
gun  in  his  hand  he  will  probably  exhibit  scarcely  even  a 
trace  of  fear;  while  if  he  is  hunting  that  particular 
animal,  the  sight  will  produce  intense  joy.  Consider  for 
a  moment  the  sex  emotion,  supposed  to  be  the  most  un- 
controllable of  all  human  instincts ;  yet  it  is  notorious  that 
the  intelligent  man  controls  even  this.  While  there  are 
intelligent  men  who  claim  that  they  have  such  a  strong 
instinct  in  this  direction  that  they  cannot  control  it,  and 
this  is  their  excuse  for  an  immoral  life,  undoubtedly,  if 
we  could  measure  and  ascertain  the  facts,  we  would  find 
that  there  are  just  as  many  men  with  just  as  strong  sex 
impulses  who  do  maintain  complete  control.  Because 
they  are  intelligent,  they  appreciate  their  relations  to 

[273] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

their  fellow  men  and  are  able  to  bring  to  bear  upon  every 
situation  sufficient  inhibiting  ideas  to  enable  them  to  re- 
frain from  acting  immorally. 

The  writer  has  seen  idiots  who  had  suffered  pain  from 
having  teeth  extracted  and  were,  upon  another  occasion, 
terrified  at  the  visit  of  the  dentist.  The  imbecile  seats 
himself  in  the  chair  with  fear  and  trembling  but  with  no 
terror.  The  moron  has  sufficient  intelligence  to  know 
that  his  teeth  are  not  hurting  him  and  that  probably  none 
will  be  extracted ;  and  so  he  sits  down,  opens  his  mouth, 
submits  to  the  examination  with  calm  composure.  The 
normal  man,  with  his  superior  intelligence,  seeks  the 
dentist,  asks  for  an  operation  that  he  knows  will  be  pain- 
ful; yet  his  mental  state  is  one  of  real  satisfaction,  not 
to  say  joy,  because  he  knows  that  it  will  be  for  his  benefit 
finally. 

Twelve  years'  association  with  the  feeble-minded,  and 
study  of  their  condition  has  convinced  the  writer  that  the 
fundamental  emotional  conditions  are  not  so  variable  as 
is  commonly  supposed.  The  feeble-minded  want  to  be 
comfortable  and  happy  and  they  are  not  hard  to  please. 
When  treated  in  a  manner  to  produce  happiness,  they 
seldom  manifest  violent  emotions.  In  all  these  years 
the  writer  has  never  seen  such  paroxysms  of  anger  as  he 
has  seen  among  normal  boys.  Even  the  sex  instinct  is 
much  less  in  evidence  among  mental  defectives  than 
among  a  similar  group  of  -normal  persons.  The  social 
relations  between  the  sexes  in  most  institutions  for  the 
feeble-minded  are  much  the  same  as  in  a  co-educational 
boarding  school.  The  boys'  cottages  are  separated  from 
the  girls'  cottages;  many  of  the  boys  at  their  work  or 
on  errands  come  in  contact  with  the  girls ;  in  some  of  the 
shops  they  work  together;  they  are  together  in  school; 

[274] 


THE  MORON  NOT  VICIOUS 

they  all  meet  in  the  same  hall  two  or  three  times  a  week 
for  entertainments,  Sunday  assembly,  etc.  Yet  in  the  in- 
stitution best  known  to  the  writer,  there  have  been  in 
twelve  years  not  more  than  two  or  three  instances  that 
indicate  any  special  sex  activity,  and  those  were  rela- 
tively unimportant.  If  one  compares  this  with  condi- 
tions in  public  schools  or  co-educational  schools,  the  con- 
clusion seems  to  be  inevitable  that  the  feeble-minded  do 
not  have  abnormal  sex  impulses. 

The  reader  must  appreciate  the  difference  between  the 
fundamental,  natural  strength  of  the  instinct,  if  we  can 
so  speak,  and  acquired  conditions.  We  have  dwelt  upon 
the  fact  of  the  modinability  of  the  instincts,  both  in  the 
direction  of  strengthening  and  of  weakening  them.  The 
instincts  and  emotions  of  the  feeble-minded  may  be 
strengthened,  as  is  evidenced  from  the  experiences  of  the 
feeble-minded  who  are  not  cared  for  in  institutions  and 
made  happy.  It  is  commonly  believed,  by  those  whose 
only  experience  is  with  morons  outside  of  institutions, 
that  they  are  a  dangerous,  vicious,  bad  group  of  people, 
full  of  the  strongest  instincts  and  emotions.  But  we 
can  only  conclude  that  this  is  the  result  of  their  having 
had  their  emotions  stirred  and  developed  by  the  necessity 
of  reacting  against  unfair  treatment  which  tended  to 
make  them  unhappy  and  consequently  resistant  to  all 
efforts  at  control.  The  feeble-minded  person  is  not 
naturally  wicked  or  bad,  but  when  misunderstood  and 
mistreated,  he  does  have  enough  of  the  primitive 
human  instincts  to  react;  and  constant  reaction  to  bad 
treatment  does  develop  his  emotions  to  a  strength  not 
usually  found  in  those  of  higher  intelligence  who  have 
been  more  wisely  treated. 

Thus  the  facts  of  every  day  life,  when  carefully  inter- 

[275] 


THE  MORON  NOT  VICIOUS 

preted,  seem  to  point  to  the  view  presented,  Jiat  while 
action  is  modified  and  reinforced  by  the  energy  of  the 
sympathetic  system,  which  appears  in  consciousness  as 
emotion,  yet  it  is  intelligence  that  modifies  and  controls 
the  action  of  the  sympathetic  system  or,  as  we  say  for 
brevity's  sake,  the  emotions. 


[276] 


CHAPTER  V 
EXPERIENCE 

THE  reader  who  has  followed  our  discussion  and  explana- 
tion of  mental  processes  will  have  noted  the  fundamental 
part  played  by  experience.  The  normal  human  organism 
includes  an  elaborate  nervous  system  with  either  actual 
or  potential  neuron  patterns  capable  of  responding  to  all 
the  important  stimuli  and  directing  all  the  necessary  ac- 
tions of  life.  But  even  those  inborn  neuron  patterns  can- 
not function  without  being  set  into  activity  by  an  ap- 
propriate stimulus.  Indeed,  there  seems  good  reason  to 
believe,  that  if  the  stimulus  is  never  presented,  these 
specific  neuron  patterns  either  degenerate  or  become  so 
subordinate  to  other  patterns  that  are  exercised,  that  for 
all  practical  purposes  it  is  as  tho  such  patterns  did  not 
exist. 

But  we  have  seen  that  while  the  inborn  neuron  pat- 
terns form  the  starting  point,  the  basis  for  reflexes  and 
instinctive  actions,  and  probably  cover  all  those  activities 
that  are  vitally  necessary  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  race 
and  for  the  safety  of  the  individual  under  simple  con- 
ditions; yet,  the  ability  to  protect  one's  self  in  a  more 
complicated  society,  that  is  to  say,  the  capacity  for  what 
we  have  called  the  higher  mental  processes,  elaborate 
thinking,  reason,  judgment,  will  and  all  that  constitutes 
the  higher  levels  of  intelligence,  depends  upon  the  group- 
ing together  of  these  relatively  few  primary  instinctive 
patterns  to  form  larger  and  ever  more  elaborate  and  com- 
plex neuron  patterns. 

[277] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

We  have  also  seen  how  this  whole  extension  and 
elaboration  is  brot  about  by  experience.  Perhaps  no- 
where is  one  brot  so  face  to  face  with  the  importance  of 
experience  as  in  the  consideration  of  imagination.  We 
have  found  that  imagination,  while  popularly  supposed 
to  be  unlimited  in  its  functioning,  is,  on  the  contrary 
definitely  limited  by  the  experience  of  the  individual. 
Ideas  are  exceedingly  useful  in  the  elaboration  of  thot 
and  reasoning  and  judgment;  but  " ideas  arouse  experi- 
ences." Without  the  experience  back  of  the  idea  there 
can  be  no  neuron  pattern  that  can  function  as  a  part  of  the 
elaborate  pattern  that  we  have  assumed  underlies  thot. 

This  fact  seems  to  be  generally  recognized  by  all  in- 
telligent people  except  some  teachers  and  trainers  of 
children.  There  is,  for  instance,  a  sharp  distinction  be- 
tween book  knowledge  and  practical  knowledge ;  between 
knowing  about  a  thing  and  knowing  the  thing  itself. 
We  say  of  a  man,  he  has  had  large  experience,  or  he  has 
had  no  experience,  and  our  estimate  of  his  efficiency  is 
determined  by  this  fact.  The  average  college  graduate 
is  notoriously  helpless  and  useless  when  he  knows  things 
only  from  books  and  has  had  no  practical  experience. 
The  intelligent  man  who  takes  up  any  new  line  of  work 
prepares  himself  by  seeing  what  others  are  doing,  by 
getting  experience.  Hence,  the  vast  amount  of  travel 
and  visiting.  The  school  superintendent  visits  other 
school  systems.  The  teacher  visits  other  classes;  the 
manufacturer  visits  other  plants  to  get  new  experiences 
so  that  he  will  have  ideas.  Societies  are  formed  by  the 
leaders  in  every  industry,  occupation,  and  profession,  for 
the  exchange  of  experiences.  All  of  which  comes  back 
to  the  fundamental  fact  that  no  man  can  imagine  new 
lines  of  activity  without  first  getting  new  experiences. 

[278] 


EXPERIENCE 

And  yet  the  teacher,  and  often  the  parent,  thinks  that 
he  educates  and  trains  the  child  by  telling  about  things. 
The  mother  who  thru  fear  of  accident  keeps  the  child 
close  at  home,  or  the  father  who  is  too  busy  to  take  his 
boy  with  him  and  show  him  things,  is  dooming  that  child 
to  incapacity  and  inefficiency  vastly  more  than  he  would 
be  by  keeping  him  out  of  school  and  not  allowing  him 
to  learn  to  read.  Now  the  positive  side  of  all  this  is,  that 
immature  mind  gets  its  development  and  training  thru 
experience.  Therefore,  every  provision  should  be  made 
consciously  and  definitely  for  giving  the  child  all  pos- 
sible experiences  that  will  help  to  build  up  useful  neuron 
patterns.  The  child  should  see  everything,  hear  every- 
thing, taste  everything,  smell  everything,  handle  every- 
thing in  order  that  he  may  have  a  complete  equipment 
of  sensations,  perceptions  and  experiences  that  he  can 
use  and  build  up  into  his  more  complex  creative  imagina- 
tions. All  these  experiences  should  have  a  certain 
orderly  or  logical  arrangement,  so  that  they  can  be  found 
when  wanted.  This  orderly  arrangement  of  experiences 
is  science,  enabling  one  to  meet  the  needs  of  life.  The 
lack  of  this  makes  the  difference  between  a  department 
store  and  a  junk  shop.  A  junk  shop  is  infinitely  better 
than  an  empty  barn,  but  efficiency  would  be  greatly  in- 
creased if  the  articles  in  the  junk  shop  were  classified  and 
arranged  according  to  some  logical  principle.  So  it  is 
with  experiences.  Without  experience,  one's  mind  is  an 
empty  barn.  The  untrained  man  of  affairs  who  has 
picked  up  his  experiences  by  himself  is  apt  to  have  a 
mind  that  is  more  or  less  of  a  junk  shop ;  valuable,  and 
often  relatively  efficient,  he  would  have  been  vastly  more 
efficient  if  he  could  have  been  scientifically  trained.  It 
is  the  business  of  formal  education  to  supply  the  neces- 

[279] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

sary  experiences  and  to  furnish  them  in  logical  arrange- 
ment. 

In  the  previous  chapter  we  have  used  the  term  vicari- 
ous experiences,  meaning  those  cases  where  we  use  the 
experience  of  another.  This  must  be  explained,  else  it 
will  lead  to  just  the  practice  that  we  are  condemning. 
It  is  the  unwarranted  confidence  in  the  value  of  the  ex- 
perience of  others  that  has  led  to  our  careless  practices 
in  education.  We  can  use  the  experiences  of  others,  but 
only  to  a  relatively  limited  degree.  The  limitations  must 
be  understood. 

The  most  important  condition  for  making  use  of  an- 
other's experience  is  that  one  shall  have  had  some  experi- 
ences that  are  somewhat  related  to  those  by  which  he 
wishes  to  profit.  He  must  have  had  the  details  of  the 
other's  experience  tho  he  has  not  experienced  all  the  ele- 
ments together.  In  other  words,  we  are  apparently  deal- 
ing with  the  same  problem  of  imagination.  I  can  build 
up  an  imaginary  picture  of  my  friend's  experience  if  I 
have  some  time  myself  experienced  the  details.  I  may 
never  have  seen  a  certain  institution  for  the  feeble- 
minded, consequently  I  cannot  reproduce  any  image  of  it. 
But  if  a  friend  describes  it  to  me  as  located  on  sloping 
ground,  at  the  foot  of  rather  high  wooded  hills,  composed 
of  a  large  number  of  buildings  of  red  brick,  the  separate 
buildings  connected  by  wooden  corridors  and  arranged 
around  a  square  court,  and  so  on,  I  can  imagine  the  in- 
stitution because  I  have  actually  experienced  all  the  de- 
tails mentioned.  My  image  will  be  accurate  in  propor- 
tion as  my  friend  has  gone  into  details  accurately,  and 
as  I  have  carefully  attended  to  all  he  said  and  repro- 
duced each  image  with  reasonable  completeness.  Thus. 
I  have  a  vicarious  experience  of  that  institution. 

[280] 


EXPEEIENCE 

All  this  information  may  be  conveyed  to  me  with  con- 
siderable degree  of  accuracy,  and  very  quickly  by  the 
presentation  of  a  photograph;  and  in  proportion  as  I 
study  and  understand  the  photograph,  I  shall  have  a 
fairly  good  experience  of  the  institution.  It  will  be  seen 
at  once  that  we  have  an  immense  amount  of  this  kind  of 
experience,  but  it  will  be  admitted  almost  as  quickly 
that  such  experience  is  never  quite  equal  to  first- 
hand experience.  Occasionally  one  has  an  experience 
of  something  that  he  has  built  up  in  imagination, 
and  he  is  able  to  say,  "This  is  exactly  as  I  had 
pictured  it;  seems  to  me  I  have  been  here  before." 
But  it  is  comparatively  rare  that  one  can  have  this 
feeling.  Vastly  more  frequent  is  the  discovery  that 
the  actual  thing  is  very  different  from  one's  imagi- 
nary picture.  As  already  impled,  this  discrepancy 
arises  as  a  result,  first,  of  lack  of  actual  experience  of 
details;  and  second,  of  failure  to  attend  closely  to  the 
description  or  to  study  the  picture;  or  third,  of  actual 
inability,  due  perhaps  to  lack  of  neurons,  to  bring  to- 
gether all  these  different  parts  into  one  co-ordinate  whole. 

From  these  considerations  it  is  possible  to  see  clearly 
where  we  fail  in  our  attempt  to  use  vicarious  experience 
with  immature  minds.  First,  we  take  no  account  of  the 
fact  that  the  child  has  not  had  the  elementary  experi- 
ences that  go  to  make  up  the  picture.  And  we  very  often 
make  no  effort  to  ascertain  that  fact.  Secondly,  we  are 
apt  to  be  extremely  careless  in  enumerating  the  details. 
And  thirdly,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  assure  ourselves 
that  the  child  has  attended  to  these  details  and  has  as- 
sociated them  together  into  a  complete  whole. 

Still  more  reprehensible  is  the  practice  of  relying  upon 
a  verbal  description  and  being  quite  satisfied  if  the  child 

[281] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

is  able  to  repeat  our  language.  Worse  still,  perhaps,  is 
the  use  of  symbols  other  than  words;  such  as  maps, 
diagrams,  drawings,  etc.,  which  in  no  way  represent  the 
original  experience,  but  only  symbolize  it.  Such  is  the 
method  of  teaching  geography  by  means  of  map  ques- 
tions, now  fortunately  largely  eliminated  in  our  best 
schools.  There  are  many  people  to  whom  Paris,  London 
and  Berlin  mean  simply  little  black  dots  on  a  map ;  and 
the  rivers  Seine,  Thames  and  Spree  are  black  lines  on  the 
same  map.  These  are  cases  where  the  attempt  to  give 
children  the  vicarious  experience  has  proved  a  failure. 
But  the  most  unfortunate  part  of  it  all  is,  not  that  the 
child  has  failed  to  get  anything  useful,  but  that  he  is 
himself  misled  into  thinking  that  he  has  gained  knowl- 
edge. . 

The  writer  once  saw  a  class  of  fifty  Normal  School 
girls  tested  as  to  their  knowledge  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
River.  More  than  half  of  them  declared  that  the  water 
in  the  St.  Lawrence  flows  southwest.  When  reminded 
that  the  river  connects  the  ocean  with  the  Great  Lakes, 
more  than  a  quarter  of  them  still  persisted  that  the  river 
flows  from  the  ocean  into  the  Lakes.  It  is  easy  to  see 
how  this  confusion  came  about;  the  river  was  to  them 
merely  the  line  on  the  map,  and  since  this  line  runs 
from  near  the  top  of  the  map  toward  the  bottom,  and 
water  does  not  run  up  hill,  it  must  be  that  the  St. 
Lawrence  River  flows  down  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to 
the  Great  Lakes.  But  in  spite  of  all  the  bad  teaching, 
we  may  admit  that  it  is  only  bad  teaching  and  that  under 
good  conditions  the  child  may  be  enabled  to  profit  by 
vicarious  experience  to  a  large  extent. 

We  have  been  speaking  of  normal  children.  When  we 
turn  our  attention  to  the  feeble-minded,  the  problem  ia 

[282] 


CONCRETE  AND  ABSTRACT 

quite  different.  The  reader  has  now  a  clear  picture  of 
the  feeble-minded  child  with  his  undeveloped  association 
neurons;  from  which  it  follows  that  the  defective  is  in- 
capable of  bringing  together  and  associating  the  different 
elements  of  his  experience,  which  would  go  to  make  up 
the  new  picture.  But  more  than  that,  he  is  usually  de- 
ficient in  the  elementary  experiences.  Tho  he  has  lived 
in  the  same  environment  as  his  normal  brother,  because 
of  his  undeveloped  neurons  the  environment  has  not 
made  the  same  impression  upon  him.  The  sensations 
that  came  through  his  eyes  and  ears  have  not  meant  for 
him  the  definite  experiences  that  they  have  meant  for  the 
normal  boy ;  therefore,  the  vicarious  experience  is  almost 
nil  for  the  feeble-minded  boy.  Moreover,  if  we  would 
be  sure  that  he  gets  the  elemental  experiences,  we  must 
be  very  careful  to  see  that  the  stimuli  make  sufficient  im- 
pression upon  him  to  arouse  what  neuron  patterns  he 
possesses.  Hence  his  training  must  be  a  radically  differ- 
ent process  from  that  of  the  normal  child.  It  must  be 
concrete  and  never  abstract.  This  necessitates  a  defini- 
tion of  these  terms. 

It  has  been  customary  to  define  concrete  as  a  term 
applicable  to  anything  that  exists;  abstract,  to  the  non- 
existent. Pedagogically  the  definitions  are  incomplete. 
They  should  add  the  idea  of  relationship  to  the  individual. 
What  is  concrete  to  one  person  who  has  had  the  neces- 
sary experience  is  abstract  to  another  who  has  had  no 
such  experience.  If  I  have  never  looked  thru  a  micro- 
scope, brain  cells  are  as  much  abstractions  to  me  as 
atoms,  hormones  or  goodness.  The  following  experience 
will  illustrate  this.  John,  aged  thirty-five,  mentally  7, 
was  being  examined  by  the  writer  as  to  his  proficiency 
in  numbers. 

[283] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

' '  John,  how  many  are  7  and  6  ? "    No  answer. 

"How  many  are  3  and  2?"    "Don't  know." 

John  evidently  cannot  handle  abstract  numbers. 

"How  many  are  3  loads  of  coal  and  2  loads  of  coal!'* 
"Five." 

"Good!  Suppose  you  give  your  horse  6  ears  of 
corn — " 

"We  don't  give  him  six  ears  of  corn." 

"Well,  just  suppose  you  did." 

"But  we  don't." 

"Well,  let's  play  you  do." 

"No,  I  can't,  because  we  don't  give  him  six  ears." 

(Note  that  John  cannot  imagine  what  is  outside  his 
experience.  Clearly  we  must  come  to  his  terms.) 

'  *  Well  how  many  do  you  give  him  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  ten  or  twelve." 

"Very  well,  suppose  you  start  to  give  him  fourteen 
ears  of  corn  and  the  hostler  says  give  him  only  twelve. 
How  many  ears  will  you  carry  back  to  the  bin?" 

"Two"  (promptly). 

"Good."  Here  followed  some  other  combinations, 
then  this:  "John,  suppose  you  took  fourteen  loaves  of 
bread  from  the  bakery  to  the  kitchen,  and  when  you  got 
to  the  kitchen  the  cook  wanted  only  twelve,  how  many 
loaves  of  bread  would  you  carry  back  to  the  bakery  1 ' ' 

John  (very  slowly  and  doubtfully).    "Three?" 

John  had  never  handled  loaves  of  bread.  The  problem 
was  abstract. 

John  hauls  coal — two  loads  in  the  forenoon  and  two  in 
the  afternoon. 

"John,  suppose  you  have  four  loads  of  coal  in  one  bin 
and  three  in  another,  how  long  will  it  take  you  to  haul 
it!" 

[284] 


"A  day  and  a  half  and  then  a  load"  (promptly). 

John  had  had  the  necessary  experience. 

The  following  account  of  Lewis's  attempt  to  make  a 
concrete  experience  out  of  an  abstract  test  is  a  further 
illustration.  Lewis  is  twenty-five  years  old,  mentality 
8.  The  Porteus  tests  are  a  series  of  mazes,  the  first  very 
easy,  the  later  ones  difficult.  The  test  is  to  trace  with 
a  pencil  the  most  direct  way  out,  and  without  touching 
the  sides.  An  S  shows  where  to  start. 

Lewis's  experience  is  clearly  in  evidence.  He  knows 
Scranton,  Pa.,  from  experience,  not  from  geography, 
which  he  has  never  studied. 

Normal  children  often  give  a  " setting"  to  their  tasks, 
but  it  is  not  often  so  clear  that  it  is  a  real  help  to  them 
in  making  the  task  concrete. 

Lewis  and  the  Porteus  Tests 

The  examiner  had  explained  what  was  desired,  but  the 
boy  could  not  seem  to  understand  in  the  least.  All  of 
a  sudden  he  looked  up  quickly,  saying: 

Lewis.  Oh,  I  see,  it's  a  train!  S  stands  for  station, 
don 'tit? 

E.  That's  right.  It's  a  train  starting  from  the 
station  and  you're  running  the  train.  Now  keep  your 
train  on  the  main  line  and  don't  sidetrack. 

Lewis.  All  right.  I'll  take  Ethel  home  to  Washing- 
ton. (Finds  opening  at  the  finish.)  Here  it  is.  It's  a 
terminal.  Write  Washington  there,  please.  Thanks. 
Here  we  go — Toooot — Pssseee — Chu,  chu,  chu,  chu  (etc. 
to  the  end  of  the  line  without  a  mistake).  Here  we  are. 
Ethel  got  home  without  getting  hurt.  Washington, 
Washington,  all  change  cars. 

With  each  maze  he  did  the  same  thing,  taking  a  differ- 

[285] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

ent  person  each  time.  When  he  made  a  mistake  he  would 
say,  "Too  bad,  too  bad.  Got  her  hurt  that  time,  must 
get  her  out  this  time  or  she'll  have  to  go  to  the  hospital 
and  get  killed. " 

After  that  he  would  start  again  and  finish  without 
a  mistake.  On  the  last  test  he  was  to  take  Miss  W.  to 
Scranton,  Pa. 

Lewis  (finding  terminal).  Write  Scranton  here, 
please. 

(Examiner  wrote  Scranton.) 

Lewis.  Write  Pa.,  please,  Scranton 's  in  Pennsylvania. 
Don't  you  know  it!  You'll  have  to  write  Pa.  Write  it, 
please. 

(The  examiner  wrote  it.) 

Lewis.  All  right.  Here  we  go  Toot-toot,  Pssseee — 
Chu,  chu,  chu. 

But  he  failed  this  one  and  was  very  much  disturbed  be- 
cause he  had  "landed  Miss  W.  in  a  hospital  and  she'll  get 
killed  and  I  can't  get  her  home." 

He  kept  worrying  and  talking  about  Miss  W.  and  the 
examiner  had  difficulty  in  getting  him  to  pay  attention 
to  the  next  test  which  was  the  Knox  Cube.  After  he 
got  the  idea  of  it  he  said:  "Oh,  I  know.  This  is  the 
electric  train.  I  can  get  Miss  W.  home  on  this,  can't  I?" 

After  he  had  been  told  that  he  could,  he  paid  close  at- 
tention and  proceeded  to  "get  Miss  W.  out  by  the  electric 
trains." 

From  all  this  it  seems  that  anything  is  abstract  that 
is  away  from  experience,  and  that  the  only  way  to  deal 
with  abstractions,  at  least  in  the  beginning,  is  to  know 
the  concrete  experience. 

It  is  highly  probable  that  we  begin  the  teaching  of  ab- 

[286] 


ABSTRACTIONS  TOO  EARLY 

stractions  far  too  early  with  the  normal  child.  The  defec- 
tive child,  who  is  never  able  to  handle  abstractions  to  any 
great  extent,  must  be  trained  wholly  by  concrete  material. 
But  of  that  we  shall  speak  in  the  next  chapter. 


[287] 


CHAPTER  VI 
PEDAGOGICAL  APPLICATIONS 

THE  facts  of  the  growth,  development,  structure  and 
function  of  the  nervous  system,  some  of  which  have  been 
set  forth  in  the  preceding  pages,  are  sufficient  to  warrant 
some  conclusion  in  regard  to  the  training  of  immature 
minds;  and  many  more  tentative  hypotheses  that  can 
either  be  confirmed  or  contradicted  by  appeal  to  experi- 
ence. 

Let  us  first  consider  the  normal  child — the  child  whose 
mind,  tho  undeveloped,  is  growing.  The  first  principle 
in  the  development  of  the  child  is  to  provide  for  the 
normal  functioning  of  his  inherited  neuron  patterns  in  a 
way  that  will  be  most  useful  to  him  and  to  the  social 
group  in  which  he  lives.  This  means  above  all  else  that 
he  must  have  the  right  kind  of  experience,  since  it  is 
experience  and  experience  alone  that  sets  these  patterns 
into  activity.  All  the  natural  instincts  that  still  remain 
useful  in  modern  society  should  be  developed.  Those 
that  have  ceased  to  be  useful,  and  on  the  contrary  are  in- 
jurious, should  be  allowed -to  lapse  thru  disuse. 

It  is  always  desirable  to  stress  the  positive  side  by 
substituting  a  desirable  action  rather  than  the  negative 
side  by  trying  to  destroy  the  bad  action — "do  this" 
rather  than  " don't  do  that."  Nevertheless  those  in- 
stincts that  begin  to  function  in  spite  of  efforts  to  the  con- 
trary must  be  discouraged  by  making  the  consequences  so 
undesirable  that  a  new  neuron  path  will  be  established. 

[288] 


LYING  AND  STEALING 

For  example,  deceiving  and  hoarding  are  instinctive  ac- 
tions. They  are  found  in  animals  and  in  primitive 
human  beings.  Where  each  one  lives  for  himself,  they 
are  among  the  highest  virtues.  In  the  more  highly  de- 
veloped human  society  they  are  called  lying  and  stealing 
and  as  such  are  undesirable  and  must  be  shunted  off. 

Both  animals  and  primitive  man  survive  largely  thru 
their  success  in  deceiving  their  enemies  and  in  accumulat- 
ing what  they  need  for  their  own  subsistence.  It  is  only 
when  men  come  to  live  together  in  groups,  the  family 
and  the  tribe  and  the  nation,  and  become  mutually  de- 
pendent, thru  each  one  specializing  and  doing  some  part 
of  the  work  for  the  common  group,  that  truth  in  dealing 
with  one's  fellows  becomes  necessary,  and  the  institution 
of  property  becomes  developed.  Under  these  conditions 
it  is  reprehensible  to  take  for  one's  own  use  that  which 
belongs  to  another  or  to  deceive  another  of  your  own 
group. 

There  has  been  a  gradual  development  along  this  line. 
First  it  was  thoroly  ethical  to  deceive  or  steal  from  any 
one  outside  the  family,  then  outside  the  tribe,  then  the 
nation.  The  present  World  War  is  developing  a  world 
unit.  Witness  President  Wilson's  conditions  of  Peace 
— all  treaties  and  diplomatic  procedure  shall  be  open  and 
above  board — world  honesty.  That  even  the  most  civil- 
ized man  has  not  yet  fully  acquired  these  habits,  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  old  primitive  instinct,  is  at  once  evident 
in  view  of  certain  indisputable  facts.  In  spite  of  all  our 
ethics  and  our  ideals  we  still  feel,  and  constantly  hear 
expressed,  that  it  is  a  little  bit  worse  to  lie  to,  and  steal 
from,  our  relatives  than  from  those  outside  of  the  family ; 
a  little  worse  to  indulge  in  these  practices  in  our  own 
nation  than  with  a  foreign  nation.  Only  recently  has 

[289] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  ideal  of  honesty  in  diplomacy  in  the  treatment  of 
other  nations  been  declared  as  the  ideal.  Moreover,  once 
war  is  declared,  deceiving  the  enemy  and  stealing  from 
him  become  the  highest  virtues. 

These  tendencies  probably  come  under  the  instinct  that 
McDougall  describes  as  the  self-assertive.  It  is  when 
the  individual  begins  to  develop  a  sense  of  self  and  to 
feel  the  necessity  of  asserting  himself  in  his  group,  that 
he  begins  to  work  for  his  own  aggrandizement  by  deceiv- 
ing others  as  to  his  intentions,  desires  and  actions,  and 
to  accumulate  for  himself  everything  that  he  conceives 
he  wants.  Experience  teaches  that  this  phase  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  child  comes,  on  the  average,  at  about 
the  age  of  nine  or  ten.  Naturally  it  appears  much  earlier 
in  many  individual  cases  and  indicates  its  presence  in 
certain  small  ways  in  practically  all  children  at  an  earlier 
age  than  nine.  Fortunately  at  that  age  there  are  usually 
enough  well  developed  neurons,  and  the  association 
centres  are  sufficiently  developed  to  make  it  entirely  pos- 
sible to  overcome  these  tendencies.  This  is  done,  as  we 
have  already  explained,  by  building  up  other  paths  and 
developing  habits  of  action  that  together  constitute 
honesty  and  truthfulness. 

As  already  explained  under  the  head  of  the  moral 
imbecile,  when  a  youth  past  this  age  of  nine  to  ten  still 
persists  in  these  primitive  practices,  we  are  compelled 
to  conclude  that  there  has  somehow  been  bad  training. 
The  primitive  instincts  have  not  been  overcome,  the  new 
neuron  paths  have  not  been  properly  developed.  This 
does  not  always  mean  that  wise  and  good  teachers  and 
parents  have  not  done  the  best  they  know;  but  rather, 
that  in  spite  of  themselves  they  have  somehow  made  a 
mistake. 

[290] 


HABITS  OF  ACTION 

The  first  principle  in  dealing  with  these  conditions 
is  that  the  inherited  neuron  paths  underlying  immoral 
conduct  must  be  blocked.  Second,  we  must  provide  for 
the  development  of  acquired  paths. 

Passing  now  to  a  consideration  of  general  pedagogy — 
the  conscious  help  that  should  be  given  to  the  growing 
organism — we  may  state  some  general  principles.  We 
have  already  discussed  at  length  the  importance  of  ex- 
perience. The  child  must  be  given  those  experiences 
that  will  set  into  activity  all  inherited  neuron  patterns 
that  are  useful,  and  also  those  that  will  develop  his  ac- 
quired neuron  patterns  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  in  the 
future  most  valuable  to  him.  Suitable  habits  of  action 
must  be  developed  in  reference  to  all  the  stimuli  that  the 
child  is  likely  to  meet.  Rightly  interpreted,  this  does 
away  at  once  with  a  practice  formerly  considered  wise, 
namely,  that  of  keeping  the  child  away  from  those  experi- 
ences that  are  considered  undesirable.  The  logical  con- 
clusion is,  not  that  the  child  should  not  know  about  the 
things  that  we  call  evil,  but  rather  that  there  should  be 
developed  in  him  the  proper  neuron  patterns  for  right 
actions  in  the  presence  of  these  evils.  To  interpret  by 
elaboration  the  prayer  of  Jesus,  it  would  be,  "Not  that 
thou  shouldst  take  them  out  of  the  world  of  evil,  but  that 
thou  shouldst  keep  them  from  evil  action." 

The  whole  doctrine  of  the  gradual  growth  and  develop- 
ment of  the  nervous  system ;  of  the  elaboration  of  neuron 
patterns  as  the  child  increases  in  age;  the  fact  that  the 
higher  association  centres  do  not  develop  until  ado- 
lescence, and  are  not  complete  perhaps  until  the  end  of 
the  adolescent  period;  all  lead  very  clearly  to  the  con- 
clusion that  we  should  not  attempt  to  develop  an  ap- 
preciation of  abstract  moral  principle  or  require  the  child 

[291] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

to  deal  too  much  in  abstractions  until  at  least  the  begin- 
ning of  adolescence. 

When  it  comes  to  a  consideration  of  school  discipline 
or  studies,  an  ideal  procedure  will  first  ascertain  the 
mental  level  of  the  child,  then  the  level  of  intelligence 
necessary  to  master  each  school  subject  and  finally  will 
fit  the  two  together.  It  should  be  noted  that  while,  on 
the  one  hand,  a  child  of  a  lower  mental  level  than  that 
required  for  the  understanding  of  a  particular  subject 
cannot  possibly  succeed  in  that  line ;  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  equally  an  error  to  keep  a  child  at  work  that  is 
below  his  mental  level.  His  instinct  of  self-assertion 
makes  'him  rebel  at  this  and  he  seeks  by  every  device 
known  to  him  to  escape.  When  the  subject  will  have  re- 
ceived more  scientific  study  than  it  has  as  yet,  it  is 
probable  that  we  shall  find  that  the  truant  group  is 
largely  made  up  of  children  who  belong  to  one  or  the 
other  of  the  two  classes  mentioned — namely :  those  whose 
mentality  is  below  that  required  for  the  task  and  those 
whose  mentality  is  far  above  the  task. 

Finally,  in  view  of  the  facts  of  physiological  and 
neurological  development  of  the  child,  the  question  may 
be  very  seriously  raised  as  to  whether  we  are  not,  in  our 
present  practice,  rushing  him  into  abstractions  too  early 
and  wasting  his  time  by  having  him  memorize  things 
which  he  can  only  understand  later;  whereas  we  should 
be  using  the  time  in  carefully  developing  neuron  patterns 
of  fundamental  importance  which  are  best  and  most 
easily  acquired  in  the  early  years.  If  this  question  is 
to  be  answered  in  the  affirmative  it  points  most  emphati- 
cally in  the  direction  of  the  present  tendency  to  industrial 
and  occupational  education. 

The  pre-adolescent  years  should  be  occcupied  by  the 

[292] 


PEDAGOGY  OP  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

child  in  doing  things;  in  getting  wide  experience  with 
the  world  about  him;  in  getting  thousands  of  neuron 
patterns  in  his  sensory  and  motor  centres,  that  will 
furnish  the  bases  for  elaborate  thot,  reason  and  judg- 
ment when  his  association  neurons  begin  to  develop  and 
are  ready  to  connect  up  these  different  experiences. 

So  much  for  the  normal  child.  Now  we  must  consider 
the  feeble-minded,  the  backward,  those  who  are  arrested 
in  the  development  of  their  neurons.  In  considering  the 
pedagogy  of  the  feeble-minded  and  backward  child  we 
must  remember  one  very  important  fact,  we  are  no  longer 
dealing  with  a  developing  organism.  The  brain  has 
ceased  to  grow  and  that  stoppage  has  caught  a  great 
many  of  the  neurons  undeveloped  and  in  such  an  im- 
mature condition  that  they  will  never  be  able  to  function. 
From  what  we  know  of  brain  growth  and  neuron  develop- 
ment; and  from  what  we  observe,  on  the  mental  side, 
of  the  condition  of  the  intelligence  in  these  individuals — 
our  studies  have  shown  that  the  feeble-minded  manifest 
all  the  simpler  mental  processes  but  are  noticeably  de- 
ficient in  those  that  depend  upon  elaborate  association 
— from  all  these  data  we  conclude  that  the  neurons  most 
affected  are  located  in  the  association  areas. 

The  feeble-minded  see  and  hear,  taste  and  smell  as  do 
normal  children.  They  meet  and  respond  to  a  simple  en- 
vironment in  a  very  natural  childlike  way.  They  profit 
by  experience  to  the  extent  that  they  will  repeat  or  re- 
fuse to  repeat  the  experience  according  as  it  brot 
pleasure  or  displeasure,  provided  the  second  situation 
is  identical  with  the  first.  They  can  neither  generalize 
nor  perceive  similarities  except  those  that  are  most 
obvious.  The  result  is  that  a  second  situation,  essentially 
like  the  first  experience  but  presenting  some  different 

[293] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

phases,  is  not  recognized  by  the  defective  as  similar,  and 
consequently  he  does  not  know  how  to  act.  In  general, 
it  is  the  differences  that  he  notes  and  not  the  similarities. 
Ask  a  child  of  eight  why  snow  is  like  sugar  and  he  may 
tell  you  that  snow  is  cold  and  sugar  is  sweet.  In  what 
way  are  a  butterfly  and  a  fly  alike,  and  he  will  tell  you 
the  butterfly  is  bigger.  Even  a  child  of  nine  or  ten  still 
sees  differences  more  easily  than  likenesses. 

Twenty-one  boys  from  fourteen  to  forty-seven  years 
old  of  mental  ages  9,  10  and  11  were  asked  to  give  the 
following  likenesses  and  differences: 

a.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  cannon  and  a  rifle? 

b.  In  what  way  are  a  hat  and  a  coat  alike? 

c.  In  what  way  are  a  hoe  and  a  razor  alike  1 

d.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  hatchet  and  a 
hammer? 

e.  In  what  way  are  a  rose,  a  potato  and  a  tree  alike? 

f .  In  what  way  are  a  table,  a  chair  and  a  bed  alike  ? 

g.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  president  and  a 
king? 

h.  In  what  way  are  a  cat,  a  snake,  a  bird  and  a  fish 
alike? 

i.  In  what  way  are  the  eye  and  the  ear  alike  ? 

j.  What  is  the  difference  between  character  and  reputa- 
tion? 

The  following  table  shows  the  result. 

20  BOYS 

Mental          Average              No.  Likenesses  Differences 

Age            Life  Age            Cases  Correct  Correct 

9                    20                      4  21%  44% 

10  25                     11  38%  59% 

11  25                      5  73%  75% 

From  this  it  will  be  seen  that  not  until  mental  age 
11  do  we  get  practically  as  many  likenesses  as  differences 

[294] 


SIMILARITIES  AND  DIFFERENCES 

recognized.  This  inability  to  see  similarities  has  some 
curious  results  especially  noticeable  in  moral  conduct. 
A  feeble-minded  child  of  mentality  7  or  8  steals  a 
handkerchief  and  gives  it  to  somebody  she  likes  very 
much.  She  is  caught  and  corrected,  told  that  it  is  steal- 
ing and  is  wrong.  It  is  highly  probable  that  she  will 
never  steal  a  handkerchief  from  that  person  again;  but 
it  is  quite  possible  that  she  will  steal  something  else  from 
that  same  person  or  will  steal  a  handkerchief  from  some- 
body else.  She  is  not  able  to  appreciate  the  generaliza- 
tion that  it  is  wrong  to  steal,  or  even  that  it  is  wrong 
to  steal  from  that  particular  person,  or  that  it  is  wrong 
to  steal  a  handkerchief  from  anybody.  Because  of  her 
lack  of  neuron  development,  and  the  consequent  impos- 
sibility of  building  up  neuron  patterns  that  would  mean 
stealing  is  wrong,  we  cannot  hope  that  she  will  ever  grow 
out  of  her  present  condition.  This  has  important  bear- 
ings upon  the  problem  of  training. 

Whenever  a  child  cannot  profit  by  experience,  or  has 
to  be  corrected  a  great  many  times  for  not  doing  right 
in  situations  that  are  similar  to  those  he  has  experienced 
before,  we  may  suspect  feeble-mindedness  or  backward- 
ness, or  at  least  that  the  association  neurons  whereby  he 
perceives  similarities  have  not  yet  developed.  This  is 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  usual  normal  child.  The 
normal  child  of  the  proper  age  might  manifest  exactly  the 
same  state  of  mind ;  but,  almost  while  we  are  correcting 
him  and  teaching  him  the  moral  principle,  his  neurons 
are  developing  and  he  is  no  longer  the  same  child  that 
he  was  when  we  began  with  him.  He  gradually  develops 
the  power  of  appreciating  the  abstract  principle.  Be- 
cause his  neurons  are  constantly  growing,  the  possibili- 
ties of  new  patterns  are  just  ahead.  It  is  evident  that 

[295] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  only  thing  to  be  done  in  the  case  of  the  feeble-minded 
is  to  teach  them  the  right  action  in  each  particular  case. 
Where  one  or  two  illustrations  or  one  or  two  experiences 
would  be  sufficient  for  the  normal  child,  the  feeble-minded 
child  must  have  scores. 

When  it  comes  to  the  question  of  formal  education, 
this  fact  that  the  feeble-minded  is  not  developing  has 
another  significant  bearing.  Many  things  that  we  teach 
the  normal  child  require  an  ever  increasing  intelligence 
as  we  go  farther  into  the  process.  But  because  the 
normal  child  is  ever  getting  an  increased  intelligence, 
he  is  able  to  keep  pace  with  the  increasing  difficulty  of 
the  subject.  With  the  feeble-minded  this  is  not  true. 
Here  is  a  subject  or  a  process  that  requires,  let  us  say, 
only  6  year  intelligence  to  understand  and  manage  the 
elements.  But  as  we  proceed  with  the  subject,  we  quickly 
get  to  the  place  where  it  requires  7  year  intelligence 
and  then  8  and  9  and  10.  Here  is  a  child  of  7  year 
intelligence;  he  is  able  to  begin  the  subject,  but  we 
know  he  will  never  get  very  far  in  it  because  he  has  only 
7  year  intelligence,  and  very  soon  the  subject  will 
require  more  intelligence  than  that,  if  it  is  to  be  com- 
prehended. Shall  we  begin  it?  Certainly  not,  if  the 
child  is  never  going  to  be  able  to  get  far  enough  in  it 
to  be  of  any  use. 

This  leads  us  to  an  extension  of  the  principle  that 
we  laid  down  in  considering  the  normal  child.  We  must 
find  out  the  amount  of  intelligence  required  for  the  prob- 
lem in  hand;  we  must  ascertain  the  mental  level  of  the 
child,  and  if  his  mental  level  is  too  low  to  begin  the  sub- 
ject, it  is  obvious  that  we  are  wasting  time  in  attempting 
to  teach  it  to  him.  But  more  than  that,  if  the  problem 
in  hand,  altho  in  the  beginning  within  his  mental  grasp, 

[296] 


TRAINING  FOR  THE  FEEBLE-MINDED 

quickly  develops  to  a  point  that  requires  intelligence 
greater  than  he  possesses,  it  is  useless  to  begin  it  unless 
it  is  of  such  a  character  that  even  an  elementary  knowl- 
edge, such  as  he  can  obtain,  is  useful. 

From  these  general  principles  and  considerations  let 
us  pass  to  more  specific  suggestions  as  to  how  to  train 
the  feeble-minded.  It  will  be  helpful  to  take  them  by 
grades  beginning  with  the  idiots.  No  one  any  longer 
thinks  of  trying  to  educate  idiots;  that  has  been  suffi- 
ciently tried  in  the  past  to  make  it  perfectly  safe  to  ap- 
cept  as  a  fact  that  it  cannot  be  done.  Practical  experi- 
ence has  formulated  as  the  limit  to  be  striven  for  in  his 
training,  the  following :  * '  To  try  to  fix  upon  him  a  few 
simple  habits  so  that  he  will  eat  a  little  less  like  an  animal 
and  make  known  his  physical  wants  to  the  end  that  he 
may  be  kept  clean  and  comfortable."  Even  this  is  un- 
attainable in  the  lowest  grade. 

The  low  grade  imbecile  can  be  taught  to  do  all  the 
things  just  mentioned,  to  amuse  himself  with  simple  play, 
to  take  some  care  of  himself,  such  as  buttoning  his  cloth- 
ing, lacing  his  shoes ;  and  to  do  very  simple  errands  in  the 
sight  of  the  parent  or  teacher. 

There  is  a  gradual  development  thru  the  middle  grades 
up  to  the  high  grade  imbecile,  who  can,  with  patience, 
be  trained  to  do  some  work  of  simple  character  or  to 
participate  in  more  important  work  by  doing  the  simpler 
parts  of  it.  But  everything  must  be  concrete  and 
definite,  the  instructions  must  be  explicit,  and  the  trainer 
must  expect  a  great  many  failures  and  mistakes  until 
finally  a  definite  neuron  pattern  is  established.  With 
careful  training,  long  persisted  in,  a  person  of  this  level 
of  mentality  may  learn  to  wash  dishes,  scrub  floors,  dust' 
furniture,  make  beds,  dig  dirt,  pile  stones,  do  special  er- 

[297] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

rands  for  which  he  has  been  especially  trained  and  under 
circumstances  where  the  conditions  will  not  vary  from 
time  to  time.  But  the  moment  variations  occur  the  child 
is  helpless. 

The  low  grade  moron  is  often  found  doing  many  of  the 
things  just  enumerated,  but  he  learns  them  more  quickly 
and  easily,  is  more  reliable  and  can  adjust  himself  to 
slight  variations.  He  will  perform  longer  tasks  and 
somewhat  more  complicated  ones,  and  with  sufficiently 
long  and  painstaking  training  can  do  quite  a  good  deal  of 
work  about  the  house  or  on  the  farm,  provided  he  is  con- 
stantly watched  and  told  how  to  meet  the  situations  that 
vary  a  little  from  the  usual. 

Finally,  the  high  grade  moron  can  be  trained  to  do  al- 
most any  kind  of  work  that  does  not  require  special  skill, 
provided  again,  the  training  be  carefully  and  painstak- 
ingly and  persistently  carried  on  until  the  process,  what- 
ever it  is,  is  learned.  He  is  able  to  adapt  himself  some- 
what better  to  changed  conditions  and  will  often  meet 
new  situations  fairly  well — if  the  new  situation  does  not 
involve  too  much  that  is  not  within  his  direct  experience. 
For  the  things  in  which  he  has  been  trained  he  needs 
only  occasional  supervision.  His  great  lack  is  that  he 
cannot  plan.  High  grade  morons  can  be  trained  to  be 
excellent  assistants  in  a  great  many  Hues  of  work ;  such  as 
assistant  janitors,  assistant  cooks,  assistant  painters, 
and  so  on  thru  a  long  list. 

In  fact,  it  is  now  known  as  we  have  already  shown, 
that  there  are  a  great  many  men  and  women  that  work 
in  these  various  occupations  who  are  mentally  only 
morons.  They  have,  by  lucky  chance,  fallen  in  with  some 
one  who  was  able  to  train  them;  and  once  trained,  they 
go  on  very  well  until  some  situation  arises  for  which  their 

[298] 


FIRST  PRINCIPLES 

training  has  not  been  specific  and  which  requires  judg- 
ment. For  instance,  Eddie  has  learned  to  handle  a  paint 
brush  and  can  paint  a  plain  surface  or  varnish  a  floor 
in  a  reasonably  satisfactory  manner,  so  much  so,  that  he 
is  useful  in  that  capacity.  But  if  set  to  paint  the  floor 
of  a  room  that  had  only  one  entrance  he  would  be  quite 
apt  to  begin  at  the  entrance  and  paint  away  from  it, 
so  that  when  he  was  thru  he  could  not  get  out  without 
walking  over  the  wet  paint. 

These  facts,  which  have  been  found  out  by  those  who 
have  spent  years  in  the  training  of  feeble-minded  children 
in  institutions,  point  to  some  very  definite  lines  of  action 
for  those  who  have  to  train  such  children  either  in  insti- 
tutions or  in  public  schools,  or  in  the  home.  First,  as 
we  have  already  insisted,  the  grade  of  mentality  of  the 
child  must  be  discovered;  then  certain  tasks  that  are 
within  his  reach  must  be  definitely  selected  and  put  be- 
fore him  and  he  must  be  carefully  and  persistently  and 
patiently  trained  to  do  them.  There  are  many  things  to 
be  done  in  every  community  that  require  no  more  mental- 
ity than  that  of  a  middle  grade  imbecile.  A  decision 
must  be  made  as  to  which  of  these  things  shall  be  selected. 
This  will  depend  partly  upon  the  temperament  of  the 
child  in  addition  to  his  mentality  and  partly  upon  the 
environment  in  which  he  lives.  The  occupation  selected 
should  be  such  as  fits  any  special  interest  or  ability  he 
may  have,  and  secondly  such  as  he  is  likely  to  have  an 
opportunity  to  work  at,  in  order  to  earn  such  wages  as 
he  is  capable  of  earning. 

"We  may  generalize  by  saying  that  beginning  with  the 
younger  and  lower  grade  children  the  training  should  be : 
first,  in  the  direction  of  self-help;  then  in  the  direction 
of  helping  others;  and  lastly  of  doing  things  that  will 

[299] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

enable  them  to  earn  so  much  of  their  living  as  is  pos- 
sible. Now  the  first  of  this  concerns  naturally  their  care 
of  themselves.  Every  child  who,  for  any  reason,  does 
not  learn  to  keep  himself  clean  must  be  taught  it.  If 
he  does  not  learn  it  at  home  it  is  a  fitting  subject  for 
school  training.  First,  to  keep  his  body  clean,  by  wash- 
ing hands  and  face,  and  by  bathing ;  secondly,  to  care  for 
his  clothing,  both  in  the  way  of  cleanliness  and  in  the  way 
of  simple  mending.  While  the  latter  suggests  training 
for  girls,  it  is  equally  fitting  for  boys.  They  may  quite 
well  learn  to  sew  on  buttons,  to  sew  up  rents  in  clothing 
and  to  do  other  simple  work. 

From  this  care  of  themselves  we  next  proceed  to  care 
of  their  surroundings.  Scrubbing  floors,  sweeping,  dust- 
ing, even  washing  windows  and  washing  clothes  are  all 
suitable  subjects  for  the  school  curriculum  for  the  feeble- 
minded. We  may  pause  to  call  attention  to  the  fact, 
which  may  be  overlooked,  that  all  this  is  not  only  practical 
and  useful,  but  it  is  mental  training  of  the  best  possible 
sort  for  these  children.  It  is  giving  them  definite  con- 
crete experience;  it  is  developing  neuron  patterns  that 
will  always  be  useful. 

Next  to  cleanliness  of  themselves  and  their  surround- 
ings is  training  in  the  simpler  activities  of  life.  Here 
comes  in  the  preparing  of  meals ;  setting  of  table,  wash- 
ing the  dishes,  table  manners,  such  preparation  of  the 
food  itself  as  can  be  trusted  to  them ;  even  simple  cooking. 
To  this  end,  every  special  school  should  have  a  kitchen 
where  may  be  done  all  the  work  that  is  done  in  the  homes 
of  these  children.  Then  there  is  the  provision  for  sleep- 
ing. The  care  of  the  bedroom  and  the  bed,  the  washing 
of  the  bed  linen,  mending  it,  et  cetera. 

Next  comes  the  out-of-doors.    A  certain  amount  of 

[300] 


SPECIAL  TRAINING 

farm  work  or  at  least  garden  work  may  properly  be 
taught  to  all.  Farm  work  is  the  great  opportunity  for 
these  children.  They  like  it  and  can  do  much  under 
supervision.  Those  who  live  and  are  likely  to  live  in 
cities  may  soon  be  turned  in  the  direction  of  such  oc- 
cupations as  those  at  which  they  are  likely  to  be  em- 
ployed. This  brings  us  to  a  large  topic;  that  of  train- 
ing them  in  some  work  whereby  they  can  help  to  earn 
their  living. 

Here  again  we  must  clearly  appreciate  the  difference 
between  the  normal  and  the  feeble-minded  boy  or  girl 
of  working  age.  The  normal  boy  or  girl  may  go  into  a 
factory,  secure  a  job,  be  set  to  work  by  the  foreman,  who 
shows  what  is  to  be  done  and  how  to  do  it,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  few  hours,  or  at  most  a  couple  of  days,  has 
mastered  the  job  and  is  earning  his  wages — a  permanent 
employe.  On  the  contrary,  the  feeble-minded  boy  or  girl 
cannot  do  this.  He  does  not  learn  the  job  the  first  day, 
nor  the  second,  probably  not  the  first  week.  The  re- 
sult is  that  at  the  end  of  the  week  he  is  dismissed.  No 
foreman  has  time  to  put  up  with  such  "  inefficiency. " 
Now  the  only  way  this  situation  can  be  met  is  for  the 
children  to  be  trained  in  the  schools  to  do  these  things. 
In  other  words,  ordinary  factory  work,  piece  work,  is  to 
the  feeble-minded  boy  or  girl  what  the  skilled  mechanic's 
work  is  to  him.  It  requires  careful  training,  long  and 
painstakingly  worked  out.  A  simple  experiment  made 
in  the  Vineland  Laboratory  will  illustrate  this. 

The  Bogardus  Factory  Test  consists  of  a  board  about 
two  feet  square,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  standard  from 
which  two  arms  rotate.  These  have  on  the  ends  of  them 
pieces  of  steel  to  simulate  knives.  A  pair  of  inch  cubes 
are  provided;  a  square  inch  is  painted  on  the  board  in 

[301] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  path  of  the  knives.  The  knives  are  rotated  by  a 
motor  at  a  suitable  speed  and  the  person  is  required 
to  take  one  of  the  cubes  in  his  right  hand,  place  it  on 
the  square,  pick  up  the  other  cube  with  his  left  hand, 
transfer  it  to  the  right  hand,  and  when  the  knife  knocks 
the  first  cube  off  the  square,  place  the  second  cube  on  the 
square,  pick  up  with  the  left  hand  the  one  that  was 
knocked  off,  transfer  it  to  the  right  hand  and  so  on.  The 
requirement  each  time  is  to  place  the  cube  on  the  square 
and  get  the  hand  out  of  the  way  without  getting  hit. 
The  whole  procedure  is  intended  to  simulate  a  good  many 
factory  operations.  Most  normal  people  do  the  test  at 
once.  A  few  require  a  little  time  to  get  the  rhythm  and 
the  new  muscular  co-ordination  which  enables  them  to 
shift  the  block  from  one  hand  to  the  other  and  place  it 
on  the  square  at  the  right  moment  so  as  not  to  get  hit. 
Four  moron  girls  of  ages  ranging  from  sixteen  to  twenty- 
two  were  practised  on  this  apparatus  for  about  a  half 
an  hour  a  day,  with  the  result  that  an  entire  week  passed 
before  any  of  them  was  able  to  do  it  successfully.  It  is 
easy  to  see  that  any  employer  who  was  paying  these 
girls  wages  for  that  kind  of  work  would  have  discharged 
them  at  the  end  of  the  week  if  not  before.  And  yet,  hav- 
ing once  learned  this  process,  they  could  do  it  as  easily 
and  successfully  as  any  one  else.  The  point  is,  they 
needed  to  be  trained  to  do.  a  simple  task  which  the  normal 
person  can  do  without  any  training.  This  is  a  maxim 
worth  remembering  in  the  training  of  the  feeble-minded. 
They  must  be  trained  to  do  things  that  the  normal  child 
does  without  ever  having  been  taught,  without  knowing  he 
has  learned  to  do  them. 

In  all  this  we  have  said  nothing  about  the  usual  school 
work,  reading,  writing  and  numbers.    It  is  evident  from 

[302] 


BEADING 

what  we  said  several  pages  back  that  only  the  very  high- 
est grades  are  to  be  considered  for  these  subjects  at  all. 
The  others  either  have  not  intelligence  enough  to  begin, 
or  their  mentality  is  such  that  they  will  never  get  far 
enough  in  these  subjects  to  make  it  worth  while  for  them 
to  begin.  A  certain  number  of  high  grade  morons  can 
be  taught  to  read  and  write  and  make  use  of  simple 
numbers,  altho  always  at  great  expense  of  time  and  ef- 
fort ;  but  of  those  who  can  be  thus  taught,  very  few  ever 
make  any  real  use  of  such  accomplishments  afterwards. 
Every  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  has  abundant  op- 
portunity to  investigate  this  problem. 

Practically  all  the  morons  who  enter  such  an  institu- 
tion have  been  trained  in  these  subjects,  either  in  school 
or  at  home,  and  usually  come  with  the  statement  that 
they  can  read  and  write  and  do  elementary  arithmetic. 
Miss  Lindley  (31)  recently  made  an  investigation  of  their 
reading  with  this  result:  Of  108  moron  girls  and  boys 
who  had  been  taught  to  read  and  who  declared  they  could 
read,  only  10  were  found  to  ever  actually  make  any  use 
of  reading;  and  many  of  those  who  said  they  could  read 
and  probably  had  once  been  able  to  read  a  little,  were 
totally  unable  to  read  anything  except  a  few  of  the  com- 
monest words. 

The  following  is  an  abstract  of  Miss  Lindley 's  report: 

Mental  Age           No.  Investigated  Readers 

Boys           Girls        Total  Boys        Girls         Total 

VIII  28  10  38  112 

IX  22  9  31  527 

X  16  12  28  84  12 

XI  4  7  11  347 

Grand  Totals  70  38  108  17  11  28 

It  was  first  made  certain  that  all  children  upon  whom 

[303] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  investigation  was  based  had  been  taught  to  read,  and 
had  at  some  time  read  fairly  well. 

If  we  select  from  the  list  of  those  that  do  read  the 
ones  who  do  so  voluntarily  and  in  preference  to  doing 
other  things,  we  have  but  seven  boys  and  three  girls. 

Those  children  who  are  easily  disturbed  seem  to  find 
reading  too  exciting.  One  boy  said  in  substance  that  he 
is  afraid  to  read  since  he  had  had  a  * '  spell. ' '  A  girl  of 
this  type  became  so  excited  over  The  Shepherd  of  the 
Hills,  a  book  that  she  had  read  again  and  again,  that 
she  tore  it.  Another  girl  burst  into  tears  whenever  she 
came  upon  a  word  that  suggested  one  of  her  many  com- 
plexes. 

It  is  interesting  to  find  that  a  number  sit  with  books 
and  pretend  to  read;  also  that  many  who  can  read  very 
well  prefer  to  be  read  to. 

One  may  be  very  easily  deceived  in  respect  to  the 
children's  reading  if  their  word  is  taken  regarding  it. 
They  tell  many  exaggerated  stories  of  the  amount  of 
reading  they  do.  There  is,  as  a  rule,  a  tendency  to  pre- 
tence that  is  quite  amusing.  Most  of  those  who  cannot 
read  are  loth  to  admit  it.  A  boy  thirty-eight  years  old, 
with  a  mentality  of  4,  sits  for  hours  with  a  book  and 
pretends  to  read.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  cannot  read  a 
word.  One  day,  after  being  called  three  times  to  come 
and  be  shaved,  he  slammed  the  book  and  grumbled  dis- 
gustedly, exclaiming,  ' '  John  can 't  read ! ' ' 

The  following  conversations  illustrate  the  pride  felt 
in  regard  to  being  able  to  read  and  the  subterfuge  re- 
sorted to.  A  boy  thirty-eight,  mentally  8,  cannot  read  at 
all.  Yet  this  is  the  conversation  verbatim: 

E.  " Charley,  do  you  read?" 

C.  "Oh,  yes.    I'm  a  great  reader." 

[304] 


READING 

E.  "What  kind  of  books  do  you  like  best?" 

C.  "'Tain't  no  difference,  just  so  there  is  readin*  in 
them." 

E.  "Which  do  you  like  better,  to  read  for  yourself  or 
have  some  one  read  to  you ! ' ' 

C.  "Oh,  I'd  rather  read  to  myself.  I  like  to  go  off  in 
the  corner  and  stand  and  read  for  an  hour  or  two  at  a 
time." 

Here  the  examiner  began  to  wonder  if  after  all  Charley 
could  read,  so  taking  a  letter  from  her  pocket  she  showed 
him  the  envelope  and  said,  "Read  this  to  me,  Charley." 

C.  "Well  (scratching  his  head),  that's  pretty  hard." 

He  examined  it  closely  for  quite  a  while,  then  his  face 
suddenly  brightened  and  he  said, '  *  Oh,  I  know  that ;  that 's 
care  of  the  Training  School." 

He  had  evidently  learned  the  sign  for  "Care  of." 

E.  "Fine,  Charley.    Now  read  the  line  above." 

C.  "Oh,  that's  your  name,  and  I  don't  know  your 
name. ' ' 

E.  "Of  course  not,  Charley.  That  isn't  fair,  is  it! 
But  here  is  some  printing  on  the  back  of  the  envelope. 
Bead  that." 

C.  "I  could,  but  it's  too  fine  and  I  can't  see  it  very 
well." 

Gilbert,  twenty-seven  years,  mental  age  7,  who  can 
read  little,  if  at  all,  reports  daily  on  current  events,  say- 
ing that  he  gets  his  information  from  the  newspapers. 
He  is  much  interested  in  the  war,  and  here  is  a  report 
of  one  of  his  conversations: 

E.  "Well,  Gilbert,  what's  the  news  from  the  front  to- 
day?" 

G.  "The  war's  getting  worse.  Hollum's  goin'  in  now 
and  take  it." 

[305] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

E.  "Take what?" 

G.  "The  war.    She's  got  a  big  army." 

E.  "Yes,  but  so  has  Germany." 

G.  "I  know,  but  Germany's  on  her  last  feet.  She's 
got  submarines  and  she  can 't  use  them. ' ' 

E.  "Why  can't  she!" 

G.  ' '  She  can 't  keep  them  up. ' ' 

E.  "How's  that?" 

G.  "  'Cause  she  can't  get  the  power." 

E.  "What  about  the  United  States!" 

G.  "We  got  awful  good  guns.  If  we  go  in  we  can  help 
a  lot.  We  got  machine  guns  that  shoot  nine  miles  and  the 
bullets  go  twelve  yards. ' ' 

James  is  eight  years  mentally  and  has  never  learned 
to  read,  yet  here  is  what  he  says  about  it: 

E.  "James,  can  you  read!" 

J.  "Oh,  yes." 

E.  "What  do  you  like  to  read  best!" 

J.  "First  readers,  second  readers,  third  readers." 

E.  *  *  Take  this  paper  and  read  to  me. ' ' 

J.  "I  can't  read  journals,  only  books." 

E.  "Bead  this  line  for  me,  it's  quite  easy." 

J.  (Examining  it  closely.)  * '  I  can 't  read  that  'cause  the 
letters  are  different  in  papers  than  in  books.  Books  is 
what  I  read. ' ' 

In  strong  contrast  to  this  pride  in  reading  is  one  boy 
who  can  read  quite  well,  but  says  he  never  does  because 
"only  sissy-boys  read,  and  I'm  a  man  now  and  I'm  not 
going  to  be  a  sissy-boy  any  more." 

This  investigation  has  been  based  upon  108  subjects 
who  have  painstakingly,  and  often  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty, been  taught  to  read.  Twenty-eight,  or  about  25 

[306] 


MISS  LINDLEY  QUOTED 

per  cent,  still  read  to  some  extent,  while  but  9  per  cent, 
care  enough  for  it  to  do  any  amount  of  it  voluntarily. 

There  are  no  noticeable  sex  differences.  Boys  from 
the  same  kind  of  homes  and  with  the  same  sort  of  environ- 
ment here  seem  to  read  fully  as  much  and  as  difficult 
material  as  do  the  girls. 

Not  more  than  two  or  three  do  reading  more  difficult 
than  that  of  the  fifth  grade.  Most  of  it  is  very  simple, 
and  the  average  would  not  be  beyond  third  grade. 

No  children  of  seven-year  mentality  seem  to  read. 
While  there  are  two  eight-year-old  readers,  one  is  a 
psychopathic  case  and  has,  without  doubt,  tested  much 
higher.  Twenty-three  per  cent,  of  nine-year-olds  and  42 
per  cent,  of  ten-year-olds  read.  There  are  so  few  cases 
in  the  eleven-year  group  that  it  is  scarcely  fair  to  con- 
sider them  as  representative.  However,  out  of  twenty- 
eight  readers,  nineteen,  or  nearly  68  per  cent.,  are  found 
in  the  ten-year  and  eleven-year  groups.  Such  results 
seem  to  warrant  the  conclusion  that  these  are  the  only 
mental  ages  that  will  ever  get  much  from  knowing  how  to 
read.  It  is,  we  feel,  these  children  who  should  have  the 
attention,  while  with  those  whose  mental  development  will 
evidently  stop  before  this  age,  it  is  useless  to  spend  time 
and  labour.  With  our  present  knowledge  regarding  the 
defective  child  it  is  possible  in  most  cases  to  make 
early,  and  rather  accurate  prognoses,  and  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  continue  wasting  time  with  them.  This  is  a  point 
that  is  just  as  valuable  for  the  Special  Class  teacher  as 
it  is  for  those  who  work  with  the  child  in  an  average 
institution.  If  the  child  is  to  remain  at  large  it  may 
be  of  advantage  to  him  to  do  simple  reading,  but  the 
results  here  seem  to  show  that  if  he  has  that  knowledge 
he  is  not  likely  to  be  able  to  use  it  to  any  real  advantage. 

[307] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

He  is  much  more  likely  to  use  it  to  his  disadvantage,  for, 
as  we  have  seen,  his  taste  runs  to  the  things  that  are 
not  good  for  him.  Besides,  here  as  everywhere  else  a 
little  knowledge  may  easily  prove  to  be  a  dangerous  thing. 
Those  of  us  who  have  laboured  in  vain  to  teach  the 
defective  child  to  read  may  find  some  comfort  in  the  fact 
that  so  few  of  those  who  have  learned,  derive  either 
pleasure  or  benefit  from  the  accomplishment,  and  we  may 
give  with  a  clear  conscience  our  time  to  things  that  for 
him  are  much  more  worth  while ! 

Writing  is  in  even  a  worse  state.  We  have  given  else- 
where (20a)  samples  of  the  handwriting  of  the  high  grade 
feeble-minded.  In  institutions  a  few  more  feeble-minded 
children  can  write  than  actually  read  because  of  the  con- 
stant pressure  to  " write  home."  But  if  they  were  left 
to  themselves,  very  few  letters  would  ever  be  written 
home  and  very  little  use  ever  made  of  the  ability  to  write. 
The  penmanship  of  the  feeble-minded  has  peculiarities 
easily  recognizable  by  any  one  familiar  with  their  writ- 
ing. This  is,  of  course,  to  be  expected  since  penmanship 
requires  fine  co-ordinations  that  are  usually  lacking  in  de- 
fectives. This  lack  of  co-ordination  resulting  in  angular, 
irregular  lines  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  the  care- 
less or  hasty  writing  of  a  business  man  whose  letter  may 
be  hard  to  decipher. 

In  number  work  the  story  is  quite  similar.  We  have 
shown  elsewhere  (20c)  feeble-minded  children  " rarely  if 
ever  develop  a  true  number  concept."  Because  of  their 
good  natural  retentiveness  they  can  memorize  certain 
combinations  and  processes — addition,  subtraction,  multi- 
plication. I  have  never  known  one  to  master  long  divi- 
sion. Written  problems  involving  anything  more  than 

[308] 


WRITING  AND  ARITHMETIC 

simple  addition  or  subtraction  are  quite  beyond  their 
abilities — except  in  school  where  they  may  have  mem- 
orized the  problem  and  its  solution. 

The  fact  is,  of  course,  that  all  these  subjects  are  highly 
abstract,  they  involve  elaborate  associations  and  neuron 
patterns  that,  if  not  utterly  impossible  for  the  feeble- 
minded, at  least  are  made  with  very  great  effort.  It  is 
probably  easier  to  make  these  children  happy  and  useful 
in  some  other  way  than  by  trying  to  teach  them  reading, 
writing  and  counting.  But  one  thing  is  evident,  if  these 
subjects  are  to  be  taught  them  they  should  come  as  ex- 
tensions of  their  other  work.  There  should  be  just  such 
use  made  of  these  accomplishments  as  the  house-wife  or 
the  farmer  boy  makes.  Making  memoranda  of  house- 
hold articles  to  be  purchased;  reading  and  writing  the 
names  of  the  things  they  work  with ;  counting  the  number 
of  people,  the  number  of  plates,  horses,  loads  of  coal,  and 
what  not;  perhaps  simple  measurements  of  things  they 
work  with.  Moreover,  in  this  way  will  be  discovered 
most  easily  what  the  child  is  capable  of  in  these  lines. 
Those  that  show  some  capacity  may  be  helped  according 
to  the  judgment  of  the  teacher.  Those  who  are  not  able 
to  learn  a  little  reading  and  writing  and  numbers  in 
connection  with  their  daily  work,  will  be  found  incapable 
of  receiving  any  more  elaborate  instruction  in  these  lines. 


[309] 


CHAPTEE  VII 
MORAL  TRAINING 

THE  necessity  for  definite  moral  training  of  the  develop- 
ing mind  lies  in  the  fact,  already  discussed  at  length, 
that  the  child  is  born  with  inherited  neuron  patterns 
which  lead  to  impulsive  and  instinctive  actions.  While 
adapted  to  man's  welfare  in  a  more  primitive  condition 
of  society,  many  of  these  actions  are  no  longer  tolerable 
because  of  changed  conditions  and  especially  because  of 
the  development  of  the  gregarious  instinct  and  the  habit 
of  living  in  co-operative  societies.  Consequently  the 
neuron  patterns  must  be  modified. 

In  attacking  the  problem  of  moral  training  there  are 
three  questions  to  be  answered,  three  groups  of  facts  that 
must  be  understood.  First,  what  is  the  nature  of  the 
child  who  is  thus  to  be  trained  to  a  different  habit  of 
action  than  that  which  his  inborn  capacities  would 
naturally  lead  to?  Second,  what  kind  of  training  do  we 
wish  to  substitute,  in  other  words,  what  is  our  ideal? 
Third,  what  are  the  means  by  which  these  results  can 
be  brot  about? 

It  is  well  recognized  (and  everything  we  have  said  in 
this  book  emphasizes  the  consideration)  that  moral  train- 
ing must  begin  early.  As'  soon  as  the  child  is  born  he 
begins  to  react  to  his  environment  and  as  we  have  already 
seen,  the  action  tends  to  become  habitual.  All  those  ac- 
tions that  will  be  useful  may  be  allowed  to  take  care  of 
themselves;  altho  conscious  appreciation  of  the  value  of 
these  actions  may  result  in  their  being  more  quickly  re- 

[310] 


NATURE  OF  THE  CHILD 

duced  to  habit  and  more  securely  established.  But  we 
are  more  especially  concerned  with  those  natural  reac- 
tions which,  if  not  corrected,  would  lead  to  habits  that 
would  be  of  decided  disadvantage  both  to  the  individual 
and  to  society.  Hence,  moral  training  cannot  begin  too 
early.  We  proceed  then  to  consider  our  three  prob- 
lems in  order. 

Nature  of  the  child.  We  have  only  to  recall  that  the 
child  is  a  growing  and  developing  organism  to  realize 
that  our  moral  training  must  be  gradually  applied  and 
must  be  adapted  to  the  child's  stage  of  development. 
In  other  words,  the  time  to  modify  an  undesirable  natural 
reaction  is  when  that  reaction  takes  place,  and  not  when 
the  teacher  or  parent  arbitrarily  decides  that  it  is  time 
for  the  child  to  develop  this  new  accomplishment.  With 
the  normal  child  this  is  not  such  a  difficult  matter  for  the 
intelligent  trainer. 

The  age  of  the  child  and  his  physical  development  are 
a  rough  but  fairly  satisfactory  guide  to  the  thot- 
ful  parent.  One  is  not  apt  to  try  to  impress  ten 
year  old  conduct  upon  a  two  year  old  child.  Never- 
theless both  parents  and  teachers  often  err  in  fol- 
lowing this  guide.  Many  are  ambitious  and  want 
to  force  the  child  into  conduct  that  is  beyond  his  capacity 
to  appreciate.  We  are  as  a  rule  ignorant  of  the  capacity 
of  children  at  various  ages.  We  are  prone  to  interpret 
the  actions  of  the  child  in  terms  of  our  own  experience 
and  to  ascribe  to  him  motives,  intelligence,  and  respon- 
sibility which  he  does  not  possess.  Others  go  to  the  op- 
posite extreme  and,  blinded  by  love  and  affection,  excuse 
and  pass  over  conduct  which  should  be  corrected. 

Besides  the  age  and  physical  development,  we  have 
the  fact  that  the  normal  child  is  active ;  constantly  doing 

[311] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

something.  This  is  helpful  because  it  shows  to  the  in- 
telligent disciplinarian  the  stage  of  development  that 
the  child  has  reached.  All  these  facts  render  the  train- 
ing of  the  normal  child  more  or  less  difficult ;  but  the  prob- 
lem, tho  requiring  thot  and  intelligence,  is  nevertheless 
not  an  insolvable  one,  as  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that 
most  parents  who  devote  themselves  definitely  and  con- 
sciously to  the  training  of  their  children  achieve  a  rea- 
sonable, and  often  a  high,  degree  of  success. 

It  is  a  dull,  backward,  or  feeble-minded  child  that 
presents  the  great  problem.  Here  his  age  and  physical 
growth  deceive  us,  and  his  lack  of  activity  deprives  us 
of  very  sure  indications  of  the  state  of  his  natural  im- 
pulses. In  such  cases  the  nature  of  the  child  can  only 
be  made  out  by  most  careful  and  wise  psychological 
study.  We  must  ascertain  by  careful  tests  the  mental 
development  of  the  child  and  adapt  our  treatment  to  his 
mental  level  and  not  to  his  chronological  age  or  physical 
condition.  We  should  ever  bear  in  mind  the  facts  of 
neuron  development  and  neuron  patterns  as  set  forth  in 
the  earlier  chapters  of  this  book;  and  remember  that  it 
is  futile  to  attempt  to  develop  a  habit  of  action,  the 
neurons  for  whicty  are  not  yet  full  grown.  The  difficulty 
of  carrying  out  this  principle  increases  directly  as  the 
chronological  age  and  inversely  as  the  mental  age.  By 
that  we  mean  that  the  older  and  larger  the  child  grows, 
the  more  apt  we  are  to  insist  that  he  is  big  enough  and 
old  enough  to  carry  out  a  prescribed  line  of  conduct,  un- 
less his  mental  age  is  extremely  low,  in  which  case  we 
readily  recognize  the  condition  and  excuse  him.  We 
recognize  the  idiots  and  low  grade  imbeciles  and  do  not 
hold  them  responsible  for  conduct  that  is  befitting  a  six, 
eight  or  ten  year  old  child.  When,  however,  the  mental 

[312] 


THE  IDEAL 

age  of  the  child  is  higher  than  that  of  the  low  grade  or 
middle  grade  imbecile,  the  difficulty  becomes  correspond- 
ingly greater,  partly  because  we  do  not  recognize  that  he 
is  backward,  and  partly  because  we  do  not  know  ac- 
curately what  is  the  proper  conduct  for  children  of 
various  ages. 

When  we  come  to  the  moron  grade  we  have  the  great 
problem,  as  yet  unappreciated  by  the  masses  of  parents 
and  teachers.  A  sixteen  year  old  boy  with  a  mentality 
of  from  10  to  12  is  not  recognized  as  defective  by 
any  but  experts.  His  conduct  is  attributed  to  careless- 
ness, indifference,  indolence,  pure  wickedness,  or  natural 
depravity.  In  such  cases  we  are  apt  to  treat  the 
symptoms  rather  than  the  underlying  conditions.  While 
it  would  be  folly  to  maintain  that  every  youth  who  does 
not  manifest  conduct  becoming  his  chronological  age  is 
mentally  defective,  yet  we  now  know  that  this  is  the  true 
explanation  in  such  a  large  proportion  of  cases  that  it  is 
by  all  odds  the  wisest  procedure  to  suspect  mental  defect 
until  the  contrary  is  proved.  An  entire  change  of  atti- 
tude on  the  part  of  parents  and  society  in  general  in  this 
respect  would  result  in  an  enormous  simplification  of  our 
problems  of  delinquency,  not  only  among  the  youth  but 
among  the  so-called  adults — adults  in  years  but  often 
children  in  mind.  To  go  on  treating  as  responsible  in- 
dividuals, once  the  facts  are  known,  persons  who  are 
arrested  in  development  and  have  only  the  mentality  of 
children  with  the  consequent  child's  responsibility,  is  to 
ignore  the  dictates  of  common  sense. 

The  Ideal.  Strangely  enough  our  second  problem,  the 
ideal,  or  what  kind  of  training  we  wish  to  give  and  what 
we  wish  to  accomplish,  is  probably  the  least  definite  of 
the  three  problems.  Earl  Barnes  has  said  that  if  we 

[313] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

could  agree  upon  a  body  of  doctrine  that  we  wished  to 
teach  children,  we  could  transform  the  nation  in  a  gener- 
ation. This  is  perfectly  true,  but  the  fact  is  we  do  not 
agree,  at  least  we  cannot  get  beyond  glaring  generaliza- 
tions. We  are  agreed  that  we  want  to  make  "good  and 
useful  citizens,"  "honest,"  "truthful,"  "humane," 
"efficient,"  etc.,  etc.,  but  when  it  comes  to  the  definition 
of  these  qualities  we  are  widely  divergent. 

We  can  only  say  that  from  the  psychological  stand- 
point our  ideal  is,  as  we  have  stated  in  the  chapter  on 
habit,  to  fix  in  the  lower  nerve  centres  as  large  a  group 
of  habitual  actions  as  possible,  and  such  a  group  as  will 
insure  the  individual's  acting  in  a  way  that  will  be 
most  useful  to  himself  and  to  society.  This  will  include 
something  of  the  virtues  above  mentioned  and  many 
others.  It  has  all  been  summed  up  in  the  expression, 
"preparation  for  life."  With  the  normal  child  this 
means,  of  course,  preparation  for  an  independent  exist- 
ence ;  that  is  to  say,  the  ability  to  manage  his  own  affairs, 
to  take  his  place  in  the  world,  to  provide  for  himself 
and  to  contribute  something  to  the  general  welfare. 
With  the  feeble-minded,  however,  the  case  is  again  dif- 
ferent. With  all  but  a  very  few  of  the  highest  grade, 
it  is  useless  to  have  such  an  ideal  as  just  expressed. 
Vfe  cannot  prepare  them  for  a  life  of  independent  action. 
They  cannot  provide  for  themselves,  much  less  contribute) 
anything  to  the  general  welfare.  Consequently,  our  ideal 
must  be  to  so  train  them  that  they  will  be  as  little  a 
menace  to,  and  as  little  a  burden  upon,  society  as  pos- 
sible, and,  in  their  own  life,  as  happy  as  possible. 

Method.  Passing  to  our  third  problem  we  have  to  con- 
sider the  question,  how  is  our  ideal  to  be  accomplished. 
We  have  shown  in  the  previous  chapters  how  the  instincts 

[314] 


MOTIVE 

are  to  be  modified,  neuron  patterns  formed,  experience 
given,  so  that  the  individual  has  all  the  necessary 
mechanism  for  reason  and  judgment  and  thot,  and  the 
neuron  patterns  underlying  right  action  So  far,  how- 
ever, we  have  said  nothing  about  motive.  We  have  said 
that  all  the  nerve  mechanism  and  all  the  mental  processes 
have  for  their  sole  purpose  the  accomplishment  of  an  act ; 
but  what  is  the  purpose  of  the  act  ?  If  it  has  no  purpose 
then  there  is  no  need  of  modification.  The  nervous  ma- 
chine is  what  it  is,  the  stimuli  produce  certain  results 
in  the  form  of  actions,  and  nothing  more  is  to  be  said. 
Mere  actions,  whether  impulsive,  instinctive  or  reflex, 
involve  no  problem  such  as  we  are  now  discussing. 
There  is  no  need  for  modification  of  the  instinct  or  for 
control. 

But  the  moment  the  action  which  results  from  any 
nerve  activity  has  to  fit  in  with  other  actions  and  corre- 
late with  a  larger  whole,  that  moment  we  begin  to  have 
a  problem  of  adjustment.  The  intelligent  adult,  realizing 
the  problem,  proceeds  to  make  the  necessary  adjustments 
in  accordance  with  his  experience,  judgment  and  reason. 
But  unfortunately  by  the  time  man  reaches  this  stage 
he  has  already  formed  a  vast  number  of  habits  of  action, 
many  of  which  would  be  exceedingly  detrimental  to  his 
adult  ideals.  Consequently  we  conclude  that  it  is  a  kind- 
ness to  the  adult  of  the  next  generation  for  the  present 
adults,  with  their  experiences  and  ideals,  to  exercise  a 
control  and  a  directing  influence  over  the  development 
of  immature  mind. 

Persons  of  undeveloped  mind  not  being  sufficiently  in- 
telligent to  have  ideals  for  themselves,  intelligent  adults 
must  have  ideals  for  them  and  must  see  that  the  develop- 
ment is  in  accordance  with  those  ideals.  But  experience 

[315] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

quickly  teaches  that  it  is  one  thing  to  have  ideals  for  the 
child,  and  it  is  quite  another  thing  to  induce  him  to  follow 
those  ideals.  Experience  also  teaches  us  that  a  cardinal 
principle  of  all  training  of  children  is:  first  to  secure 
their  co-operation. 

This  brings  us  to  the  fundamental  problem  of  disci- 
pline ;  and  the  question  comes,  how  shall  we  secure  the  co- 
operation of  the  child  in  our  efforts  to  bring  about  the 
necessary  modifications  of  such  of  his  natural  instincts 
as  experience  has  taught  must  be  modified.  Fortunately 
the  answer  is  at  hand,  at  least,  in  general  terms. 

Biology  teaches  us  that  evolution,  or  development,  in 
both  the  plant  and  animal  world,  has  come  about  thru  a 
system  of  rewards  and  punishments.  In  unconscious 
organisms  this  is  simply  life  or  death,  survival  or  non- 
survival.  That  organism  that  varied  in  such  a  way  as 
to  best  adapt  it  to  its  environment  survived;  those  that 
were  not  thus  favoured  perished.  The  reward  is  life 
and  the  punishment  death.  With  conscious  organisms 
and  especially  with  man  there  is  a  wider  range  of  possi- 
bilities thru  an  appreciation  of  the  tendencies  of  actions 
that  in  themselves  are  not  of  sufficient  importance  to  re- 
sult in  a  question  of  life  or  death.  Thru  the  function- 
ing of  the  sympathetic  system,  feelings  arise. 

These  feelings  serve  as  guides  for  future  action.  If 
they  are  pleasant  they  encourage  the  activity  that  gave 
rise  to  them;  if  unpleasant  they  discourage  it.  This 
gives  rise  to  a  natural  system  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments. This  system  has  been  efficient  in  the  evolution 
of  the  race,  but  it  is  costly  for  the  individual.  The  re- 
wards and  punishments  are  often  so  remote  that  the 
individual  cannot  appreciate  them,  and  consequently  does 
not  attempt  to  modify  his  conduct  until  it  is  too  late. 

[316] 


REWARDS  AND  PUNISHMENTS 

The  next  generation  will  profit  by  his  experience,  but 
he  is  lost.  To  obviate  this  we  have  developed  a  system 
of  artificial  rewards  and  punishments.  It  is  these  and 
their  application  that  we  have  especially  to  consider. 

By  punishment  is  meant  anything  that  causes  pain  or 
discomfort,  unhappiness  or  loss.  Reward  is  anything 
that  gives  happiness,  pleasure,  or  gain.  There  is  an 
ascending  scale  of  both  rewards  and  punishments.  The 
lowest  form  is  that  which  appeals  mainly  or  solely  to  the 
physical,  bodily  pain  or  bodily  comforts.  At  the  upper 
end  we  have  the  highly  abstract  form  of  subjective  hap- 
piness or  unhappiness.  Obviously  the  lower  forms  are 
applicable  to  the  earlier  stages  of  development  and  the 
higher  forms  only  to  the  later  stages. 

A  question  often  raised  is,  which  is  preferable,  the 
discipline  of  rewards  or  the  discipline  of  punishments. 
Since  the  two  are  often  reciprocal  it  is  in  many  cases 
only  a  question  of  emphasis.  In  practice  it  has  come 
about,  in  the  past  at  least,  that  we  have  laid  the  emphasis 
on  punishments  in  the  lower  levels  and  on  rewards  in  the 
higher.  We  punish  a  child  for  wrong  conduct;  we  re- 
ward an  adult  for  good  conduct.  There  is,  however,  an 
encouraging  tendency  in  later  years  to  lay  greater  stress 
upon  the  positive  side  with  a  consequent  greater  use  of 
reward  and  less  of  punishment.  Formerly  trainers  of 
animals  punished  the  animal  when  he  did  not  do  the 
thing  that  was  wanted.  Animal  trainers  have,  however, 
learned  that  better  and  quicker  results  are  obtained  by 
rewarding  the  animal  when  he  does  the  right  thing.  The 
reason  for  this  seems  obvious,  once  one's  attention  is 
called  to  it.  There  are  innumerable  wrong  actions  for 
every  one  that  is  right.  Consequently  the  chances  are 
far  greater  that  an  animal  will  do  the  wrong  thing  than 

[317] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  right.  If  we  are  using  the  punishment  method  we 
will  be  continually  punishing  him;  and  as  a  consequence 
numerous  associations  are  made  with  the  wrong  reaction 
and  none  with  the  right  one. 

Moreover,  we  have  learned  that  the  emotional  content 
of  an  experience  has  much  to  do  with  the  strength  of  the 
association;  therefore,  punishment  for  an  action  makes 
the  neuron  pattern  underlying  that  action  all  the  more 
strongly  affected  and  more  likely  to  be  used  again.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  all  the  wrong  actions  are  ignored 
they  are  easily  forgotten,  and  then  if  the  right  action 
is  rewarded  it  becomes  the  one  association  that  remains 
fixed  in  the  mind.  There  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  this 
is  not  as  true  of  children  as  of  animals.  Indeed  there  are 
reasons  to  think  that  it  is  more  important.  Punishment 
puts  the  child  into  an  unhappy  frame  of  mind  which  in 
many  cases  seems  to  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  con- 
ceive the  right  action ;  or  even  if  he  does  finally  act  right 
and  gets  rewarded,  the  reward  is  insignificant  in  com- 
parison with  several  punishments.  Moreover,  it  is  a 
demonstrated  fact  that  punishment  takes  away  energy, 
while  reward  increases  it.  Gilchrist  (19)  tried  the  fol- 
lowing experiment : 

A  class  of  fifty  young  women  in  educational  psychology 
were  given  the  Curtis  English  Test  4  B.  Immediately 
after  taking  the  test,  the  class  was  divided  at  random 
into  two  groups  and  seated  in  different  rooms.  To  the 
first  group  the  examiner  said,  "A  hasty  examination  of 
the  papers  in  the  test  just  given  shows  that  the  members 
of  this  group  did  not  do  so  well  in  the  test  as  the  average 
twelve-year-old  child  would  do.  I  ask  you  to  take  the 
test  again."  To  the  other  group  he  said,  "A  hasty  ex- 
amination of  the  papers  in  the  test  just  given  shows  that 

[318] 


EFFECT  OF  PRAISE  AND  BLAME 

the  members  of  this  group  did  exceptionally  well.  I  ask 
you  to  take  the  test  again."  The  first  group  made  no 
improvement  on  the  second  test,  while  the  second  group 
improved  seventy-nine  per  cent. 

The  writer  has  repeatedly  made  the  experiment  of 
speaking  encouragingly  or  discouragingly  to  subjects 
who  were  using  the  ergograph.  The  results  were  always 
the  same ;  the  subject  always  lifts  the  weight  higher  when 
praised,  and  he  always  falls  below  when  he  is  criticized. 
Say  to  a  bystander,  but  so  that  the  subject  hears  it,  "He 
is  making  a  fine  curve,"  and  the  next  pull  goes  higher 
than  any  he  has  made.  Then  say,  "Pretty  poor,"  and 
the  next  stroke  will  be  lower  than  those  each  side  of  it. 
These  and  many  other  considerations  certainly  justify 
the  rule,  never  scold.  We  cannot,  however,  go  quite  so 
far  as  to  say  never  punish;  tho  it  is  undoubtedly  true 
that  on  the  whole  vastly  better  results  are  obtained  by 
the  method  of  reward  than  by  that  of  punishment.  But 
it  should  always  be  remembered  that  it  takes  the  highest 
wisdom  to  punish  wisely.  A  fundamental  principle  in  all 
punishment  is  that  the  form  and  degree  of  punishment 
must  fit  the  offence  to  a  nicety.  As  much  harm  is  done 
by  overpunishing  as  by  not  punishing  at  all.  The 
psychology  of  punishment  should  always  be  kept  in  mind. 
The  purpose,  of  course,  is  to  associate  such  unpleasant 
consequences  with  an  undesirable  action  that  that  line 
will  be  blocked  in  the  future.  In  view  of  this  it  is 
obvious  that  the  punishment  should  not  be  too  far  re- 
moved in  time,  from  the  offence;  otherwise  the  child 
makes  no  association  between  the  two.  A  punishment 
that  has  no  direct  connection  in  the  mind  of  the  child, 
with  his  offence,  is  not  punishment  but  brutality. 

Rewards  have  the  advantage,  as  already  indicated,  of 

[319] 


increasing  the  energy,  strengthening  the  association,  and 
encouraging  the  highest  degree  of  co-operation  on  the 
part  of  the  subject.  The  reward  must  be  carefully 
selected  and,  like  the  punishment,  wisely  adapted  to  the 
action.  It  also  must  be  used  sufficiently  close  to  the  ac- 
tion to  make  the  association  complete,  otherwise  it  will 
have  no  effect  upon  action.  By  reward,  we  do  not  mean 
bribe.  While  a  child  may  occasionally  be  promised  a  re- 
ward, as  a  rule  the  reward  should  follow  the  action  with- 
out previous  promise.  The  action  performed,  the  reward 
should  be  forthcoming,  and  should  not  be  withheld  on 
account  of  any  later  misdemeanour.  Punishing  a  mis- 
demeanour by  withholding  the  reward  for  a  previous  good 
act  produces  a  confusion  in  the  mind  of  the  child,  and 
neither  the  reward  nor  the  punishment  gets  its  proper 
associations.  Give  the  reward  as  deserved  for  the  thing 
done ;  punish  the  later  misdemeanour  on  its  own  account. 
With  very  young  children  the  reward  must  be  definite, 
concrete  and  prompt.  The  one  thing  that  often  fulfils  all 
these  conditions  is  something  to  eat.  This  appeals  to  a 
fundamental  instinct  and  makes  a  strong  association. 
It  is  the  procedure  now  followed  in  the  training  of 
animals,  as  above  indicated,  and  wonderful  results  are 
achieved  by  it.  To  promise  a  young  child  something  in 
the  future  is  absolutely  futile.  We  have  already  shown 
that  a  child  does  not  know  the  difference  between  morn- 
ing and  afternoon  until  he  is  six  years  old.  Therefore, 
to  promise  a  young  child  something  "this  afternoon" 
or  "tomorrow  morning'*  is  meaningless  to  him.  Simi- 
larly, things  more  remote  are  equally  useless  to  an  older 
child.  To  promise  something  next  month  or  next  spring 
to  a  child  who  has  not  yet  arrived  at  the  stage  where  he 
appreciates  "the  date"  is  equally  useless;  while  to  hold 

[320] 


USE  OF  COMMENDATION 

out  to  the  child  the  idea  that  a  certain  line  of  conduct  will 
make  him  "a  respected  man  when  he  grows  up,"  is  un- 
doubtedly utterly  lost  any  time  previous  to  the  beginning 
of  adolescence. 

The  writer  has  tried  the  experiment  a  number  of  times 
and  has  never  found  a  school  group  that  would  not  choose 
a  half -holiday  "  today "  in  preference  to  a  whole  holiday 
next  week.  There  are  probably  other  factors  present 
in  such  a  test,  but  undoubtedly  the  one  under  discussion 
is  prominent.  The  food  reward,  which  is  the  only  proper 
one  for  the  very  youngest  children,  may,  as  the  child 
grows  older,  be  replaced  by  things  of  value  to  him.  Still 
later  may  come  in  the  appeal  to  the  self-assertion  instinct, 
the  showing  off,  in  the  form  of  honour,  rank,  position, 
or  privilege.  Under  this  head  come  also  words  of  ap- 
proval or  praise,  especially  if  made  in  public. 

Commendation  and  approval  given  to  the  child  in 
private  should  be  freely  bestowed  when  he  has  reached 
the  age  to  appreciate  it;  but  this  probably  comes  rather 
late,  certainly  does  not  reach  its  highest  efficiency  until 
the  adolescent  period  or  even  adult  life.  Lastly  that 
"virtue  is  its  own  reward,"  or  that  a  person  should  be 
satisfied  with  the  consciousness  of  having  done  right,  has 
no  place  with  children  and  not  often  even  with  adults. 
It  may  perhaps  serve  for  a  time  with  some  persons  of 
highly  evolved  consciousness  for  abstract  ideals;  but 
every  normal  man  wants  the  approval  of  his  fellows 
and  must  occasionally,  at  least,  hear  the  word  of  com- 
mendation; and  most  men  are  more  efficient  if  this  com- 
mendation comes  pretty  frequently.  The  most  success- 
ful leaders  of  men  are  those  who  see  most  to  praise  in 
their  followers. 

It  is  sometimes  feared  that  too  much  praise  makes 

[321] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

the  child  conceited.  This  is  probably  not  true,  but  even 
if  so,  the  evil  is  far  less  than  that  which  comes  from  lack 
of  appreciation.  Praise  brings  out  the  best  that  is  in  a 
child,  while  censure  or  disparagement  discourages  him 
from  attempting  what  he  really  could  do. 

What  we  have  said  of  normal  children  is  also  true  of 
the  feeble-minded  according  to  their  mental  age  rather 
than  their  chronological.  But  more  than  that,  because  of 
the  lack  that  we  have  described  in  the  feeble-minded,  they 
are  unable  to  formulate  for  themselves  any  ideals  and 
consequently  the  only  incentive  to  action  is  the  rewards 
that  they  get,  either  material  ones  or,  in  the  highest  cases, 
the  word  of  public  commendation.  Without  working  it 
out  psychologically,  the  caretakers  of  the  feeble-minded 
have  learned  empirically  that  the  most  successful  way  of 
handling  them  is  to  constantly  praise  them.  It  is  found 
that  to  praise  a  child  even  for  a  piece  of  work  that  is 
not  quite  satisfactory  is  the  surest  way  to  make  him  do 
it  better  the  next  time. 

We  have  seen  that  participation  of  the  sympathetic 
system  in  our  nervous  activities  seems  to  reinforce  the 
action  of  the  central  neurons  and  when  the  affective  ele- 
ment is  strong,  the  experience  is  more  vivid  in  conscious- 
ness, and  is  better  remembered,  and  the  different  parts 
of  the  neuron  pattern  are  more  firmly  linked  together. 
It  would  follow  that  when  the  interest  phase  of  the  atten- 
tion— interest  state — is  so  strong  as  to  be  noticeable,  the 
effect  is  better.  This  is  borne  out  by  the  common  experi- 
ence that  interesting  experiences  make  life  more  worth 
living ;  make  the  body  function  better ;  conduce  to  health 
and  long  life. 

This  conclusion  is  abundantly  reinforced  from  the 
study  of  the  feeble-minded.  The  motto  of  a  certain 

[322] 


HAPPINESS  FIRST 

school  for  the  feeble-minded  is  "Happiness  first,  all  else 
follows."  This  is  not  a  philosophical  dictum  but  an 
empirical  formula,  the  result  of  long  experience  in  the 
care,  training  and  study  of  mental  defectives.  It  means 
that  when  the  child  is  so  treated  that  its  sympathetic 
system  augments  the  action  of  the  cerebrospinal  system 
by  that  something,  which  shows  in  consciousness  as 
pleasant  emotion,  interest,  or  happiness,  the  resulting 
action  of  the  entire  system  is  more  nearly  normal,  more 
satisfactory  than  under  the  opposite  conditions. 

Children  learn  better,  work  better,  act  better  when  they 
are  happy.  Ever  since  this  principle  began  to  be  ap- 
preciated, the  institution  has  been  organized  for  happi- 
ness. If  a  new  plan  or  a  new  policy  or  some  new  ar- 
rangement is  under  consideration,  the  first  question  asked 
is,  "Will  it  make  the  children  happy ?"  If  a  child  is 
under  consideration,  the  first  question  is,  "Is  he  happy, 
or  will  the  treatment  proposed  make  him  happy?"  This 
does  not  mean  a  soft  pedagogy  or  weak  discipline,  nor 
that  the  child  gets  necessarily  what  his  momentary  whim 
leads  him  to  think  he  wants.  But  neither  does  it  mean 
that  some  matron  or  teacher  or  superintendent  in  his 
superior  wisdom  decides  that  this  thing,  in  the  long  run, 
will  make  the  child  happy  and  therefore  he  must  submit 
to  it,  trusting  that  he  will  live  long  enough  to  enjoy  the 
happiness  and  appreciate  the  wisdom  of  the  treatment. 

"Happiness  first"  means  that  the  nature  of  the  child 
is  considered,  his  temperament  and  disposition  and 
habits;  that  the  treatment  best  suited  to  him  is  pre- 
scribed; and  then  by  careful  handling  he  is  gently  led 
away  from  the  thing  that  he  thinks  he  wants,  and  his 
interest  is  aroused  in  the  thing  that  will  actually  make 
him  happy.  That  this  is  a  real  and  definite  achievement 

[323] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

will  be  appreciated  by  any  one  who  knows  of  feeble- 
minded children  that  are  not  thus  treated;  who  knows 
how  cross  and  stubborn  and  ugly,  out  of  sorts  and  un- 
comfortable and  irritating,  feeble-minded  people  can  be- 
come. Indeed,  those  who  know  feeble-minded  children 
as  they  are  usually  met  with,  handled  by  those  who  do 
not  understand  them,  find  it  hard  to  believe  that  children 
in  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  are  happy. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  true ;  and  every  institution  that  works 
upon  this  principle  of  happiness,  as  most  of  them  do, 
contains  one  of  the  happiest  groups  of  people  that  can 
be  found. 

The  children  in  institutions  are  fundamentally  like  the 
defectives  outside.  They  have  their  bad  ways  and  their 
bad  days,  their  bad  dispositions,  their  annoyances  and 
vexations,  their  unhappy  moments ;  but  it  is  the  business 
of  the  first  one  that  comes  in  contact  with  them  to  change 
all  that  and  make  them  happy.  Let  us  see  how  it  is 
done. 

John,  age  thirty-five,  mentally  7,  is  one  of  the  farmer 
boys,  he  has  been  carefully  trained  and  can  plough  and 
harrow  and  drive  a  team  and  do  various  other  work 
when  once  it  is  planned  out  for  him.  One  morning  he 
came  over  to  the  stable  and  the  farmer  said  to  him, 
"John,  you  can  plough  that  field  today,'*  but  John  was 
not  feeling  happy.  Perhaps  he  had  a  bit  of  indigestion, 
or  he  had  not  slept  well.  He  did  not  appear  with  his 
usual  good  nature,  and  as  a  consequence  he  replied  to 
the  farmer, ' '  Ain  't  goin '  to  plough  that  field  today. ' '  To 
which  the  farmer  replied  pleasantly,  "Not  going  to 
plough  the  field,  what  do  you  want  to  do?"  "Nothing." 
"Nothing!  well,  all  right,  do  you  want  to  go  back  to  the 
cottage  and  rest  today?"  "I  don't  know,  I  don't  know, 

[324] 


MAKING  A  MORON  HAPPY 

I  don't  want  to  do  nothing."  "All  right,  John,  you  just 
do  nothing  today.  You  just  have  a  good  time  doing  noth- 
ing. I'll  find  somebody  to  plough  the  field  and  you  can 
do  nothing  all  day.  Of  course,  I  am  sorry  that  you 
don't  feel  like  ploughing  the  field,  because  while  I  can 
find  somebody  to  plough  it,  there  isn't  anybody  that  can 
plough  it  quite  so  nicely  as  you  can."  And  the  farmer 
worked  about,  pretending  to  do  something  but  in  reality 
waiting  for  John.  John  could  not  withstand  that  little 
bit  of  flattery — any  more  than  a  normal  person.  The 
fact  is,  it  made  him  happy  and  the  moment  he  was  happy 
the  whole  situation  changed.  After  a  few  minutes  he 
came  along,  perhaps  rather  sheepishly  and  said,  "Well, 
I  guess  I'll  plough  the  field."  He  got  the  thing  that 
made  him  happy. 

Tom  is  a  high  grade  moron.  He  has  been  trained  to 
use  the  paint  brush.  There  are  two  painters,  one  of 
whom  he  likes  very  much  but  the  other  one  irritates  him. 
It  happened  that  his  friend  had  gone  for  a  short  vaca- 
tion, so  that  Tom  had  to  work  with  the  painter  whom 
he  dislikes.  One  day  he  came  to  the  administration 
building  very  angry  and  excited  and  wanted  to  see  the 
superintendent.  The  superintendent  was  busy  with  the 
director  of  the  laboratory,  talking  over  important  mat- 
ters, but  these  matters  could  wait.  Anything  can  wait 
when  the  happiness  of  a  feeble-minded  boy  is  at  stake! 
Tom  came  in  and,  almost  crying  with  anger,  he  shouted, 
"Ain't  going  to  work  with  Jim  any  more.  I  want  you 
to  give  me  a  note  saying  that  I  don't  have  to  work  with 
Jim. "  "  All  right,  Tom,  but  tell  me  what  is  the  matter. ' ' 
Tom  explained  his  grievances  as  well  as  he  could,  he 
said  he  liked  to  paint  and  he  would  paint  when  his  friend 
came  back,  he  would  work  with  him  but  he  would  not 

[325] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

work  with  Jim.  The  superintendent  proceeded  to  write 
out  the  orjler  for  his  transfer  to  another  line  of  work. 
Tom  was  gradually  getting  over  his  anger.  He  seemed 
to  be  getting  what  he  wanted,  what  would  make  him 
happy.  Presently  he  said,  "I  can  come  back  to  the  paint- 
ing when  my  friend  comes  back,  can't  I?"  To  which  the 
superintendent  replied,  "Well,  now  I  don't  know  about 
that,  Tom.  You  see  there  is  a  lot  of  painting  to  be  done, 
and  I  must  have  boys  working  with  Mr.  Blank  who  will 
be  willing  to  take  his  place  and  work  with  Jim  when 
Blank  goes  away.  He  has  to  have  a  vacation,  you  know. 
You  wouldn't  want  him  to  stay  home  from  his  vacation, 
would  you?"  "No,  I  wouldn't  want  that,  but  I  want 
to  work  with  him  when  he  comes  back."  "Well,  you  see 
how  it  is,  I  must  have  boys  working  with  him  when  he 
is  here  who  will  be  willing  to  work  with  Jim  when  Mr. 
Blank  is  away."  And  the  superintendent  continued  to 
write  the  order.  I  could  see  that  Tom  was  thinking  hard. 
Presently  he  said,  "Well  you  needn't  write  the  order,  I'll 
go  back  and  work  with  Jim."  He  got  what  he  wanted 
and  was  happy.  Not  that  he  wanted  to  work  with  Jim, 
but  he  wanted  to  work  with  Mr.  Blank  and  the  smaller 
thing  is  swallowed  up  in  the  greater. 

"Happiness  first,  all  else  follows,"  is  surely  based 
upon  sound,  scientific  facts — the  physiology  of  the  sym- 
pathetic nervous  system.  Perhaps  the  reader  will  ask, 
what  is  to  be  done  with  those  persons,  normal  or  defec- 
tive, who  cannot  be  made  happy.  To  which  we  shall  re- 
ply briefly;  that  is  a  problem  for  the  physician,  not  for 
the  psychologist.  In  other  words,  the  person  who  can- 
not be  made  happy  is  diseased  and  it  is  for  the  physician 
to  discover  the  disease,  its  proper  treatment  and  its  cure. 

One  might  sum  up  the  problem  of  discipline  among 

[326] 


MAKING  A  MORON  HAPPY 

the  feeble-minded  by  saying: — Treat  them  as  children 
according  to  their  mental  age,  constantly  encourage  and 
praise,  never  discourage  or  scpld;  and  keep  them 
happy. 


[327] 


APPENDIX 
THE  MECHANISM  OF  THE  EMOTIONS 

BY 

PROFESSOR  ANGBLO  Mosso 

TODAY  I  may  be  permitted  to  express  my  own  ideas  about  the 
mechanism  of  the  emotions. 

"We  are  sometimes  surprised  by  a  sad  or  a  joyful  piece  of  news. 
We  all  know  what  happens  in  a  state  of  fear  and  distress. 
Physiological  phenomena  occur  that  cannot  be  described.  But 
when  we  learn  suddenly  that  the  news  which  has  troubled  us 
is  false,  that  our  fear  and  distress  had  no  foundation,  the  in- 
ternal disturbance  does  not  cease,  the  physiological  phenomena 
continue  in  the  organism  in  spite  of  all  efforts  of  the  will  to 
suppress  them. 

The  investigation  of  these  processes  has  shown  that  the  seat 
of  the  emotions  lies  in  the  sympathetic  nervous  system. 

Before  we  were  born,  and  for  a  long  time  after  birth,  our  life 
was  entrusted  to  the  activity  of  the  sympathetic  system  and 
the  reflex  movements  derived  from  the  spinal  cord.  We  need 
not  be  surprised  at  this,  when  we  reflect  how  great  an  impor- 
tance nature  has  attributed  to  the  vegetative  and  generative  life 
processes  in  the  formation  of  the  organism. 

In  decisive  moments  of  life,  when  the  emotions  are  most 
violent,  it  is  just  the  sympathetic  nervous  system  that  comes 
into  action.  The  intestines  and  the  smooth  muscular  fibres  con- 
tract in  order  to  raise  the  pressure  of  the  blood,  and  to  utilize 
the  blood  better  for  the  brain  and  the  muscles. 

The  first  observations  concerning  this  subject  were  made  by  me 
more  than  twenty  years  ago.  I  was  able  to  see  that  in  sleep 
a  contraction  of  the  blood-vessels  always  takes  place  as  soon  as 
the  sense  organs  and  the  skin  are  stimulated,  even  when  the 

[329] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

stimulation  is  so  weak  that  the  subject  does  not  wake  up. 
These  changes,  which  result  without  our  knowledge,  form  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  arrangements  which  we  can  observe  among 
the  perfections  of  our  organization.  During  the  interruption 
of  consciousness  our  body  does  not  remain  helplessly  exposed 
to  the  influences  of  the  external  world,  or  in  danger  of  be- 
coming the  prey  of  its  enemies.  Even  in  sleep  a  portion  of  the 
nerve  centres  watches  over  the  operation  of  the  external  world, 
and  prepares  in  good  time  the  material  conditions  for  the  awak- 
ing of  consciousness.  If  we  glance  back  at  the  unconscious 
processes  which  we  saw  take  place  in  sleep  under  external  in- 
fluences, we  shall  see  that  they  are  all  co-ordinated  in  corre- 
spondence with  a  final  object;  they  all  coincide  in  favouring  the 
circulation  of  the  blood  in  the  brain,  and  thereby  making  it  pos- 
sible that,  in  case  of  danger,  the  organ  may  awake  to  full 
activity. 

I  do  not  believe  myself  far  from  the  truth  in  maintaining  that 
the  totality  of  the  reflex  movements  to  be  observed  during  sleep 
forms  a  real  defensive  apparatus  for  the  organism. 

Other  investigators  have  since  demonstrated  the  same  thing. 
Two  years  later,  in  1881,  Dr.  Pellacani  and  I  found  that  even 
very  weak  sensations  caused  a  contraction  of  the  bladder. 
These  facts  had,  in  general,  been  already  known,  for  these 
contractions  have  become  proverbial  in  connection  with  fear 
and  other  emotional  conditions;  but  no  one  had  previously  ob- 
served that  this  organ  reacts  with  such  facility  to  all  sense  im- 
impressions  that  its  tonicity  changes  in  consequence  of  attention 
and  inconsiderable  psychic  processes. 

II 

The  organs  of  the  abdomen  and  the  pelvic  cavity  are  just 
as  sensitive  to  the  emotions  as  the  heart.  I  have  studied  the 
movements  of  the  abdominal  organs,  the  stomach,  and  the 
rectum.  In  the  smallest  emotions  movements  of  the  intestines 
and  stomach  always  occur. 

[330] 


EMOTIONS 

In  movements  of  the  bladder,  we  must  distinguish  between 
active  and  passive,  i.e.  between  such  as  are  peculiar  to  the 
bladder  itself,  and  such  as  are  transferred  to  it  from  the 
diaphragm  and  from  the  walls  of  the  abdomen. 

In  order  to  investigate  with  exactness  these  movements  of  the 
bladder  itself,  I  have  carried  on  experiments  both  on  the  dog 
and  on  woman.  I  shall  first  explain  the  construction  of  the 
apparatus  employed,  and  then  give  an  account  of  the  experi- 
ments performed. 

The  instrument  made  use  of  was  my  plethysmograph,  which 
has  the  advantage  of  maintaining  the  pressure  constant  and  of 
registering  the  slightest  movements  of  contraction  and  relaxa- 
tion of  the  bladder.  .  .  .  (Here  follows  description  of  the  ap- 
paratus.) 

Another  day  while  we  were  recording  the  movements  of  the 
bladder,  a  servant,  to  whom  the  dog  was  much  attached,  entered 
the  laboratory.  Immediately  the  curve  showed  an  active  con- 
traction of  the  bladder,  as  may  be  seen  in  Fig.  3,  at  G.  In 
abe  we  see  passive  movements  of  the  bladder,  which  have  become 
weaker  because  the  respiration  is  more  superficial. 

When,  shortly  before,  another  person,  whom  the  dog  did  not 
know  so  well,  had  entered  the  room,  we  had  also  noticed  another, 
but  stronger  contraction  of  the  bladder.  In  order  to  keep  the 
dog  quiet,  one  of  us  laid  his  hand  on  his  head.  (See  P  in  curve 
of  Fig.  3.)  When  the  hand  was  taken  awa'y,  and  the  servant 
laid  his  upon  the  dog,  there  occurred  again  an  active,  but  less 
marked,  contraction  of  the  bladder.  As  soon  as  the  respiration 
became  more  superficial,  the  passive  movements  of  the  bladder 
became  also  less  distinct. 

After  these  observations,  the  dog  lay  with  eyes  half  closed, 
as  if  he  was  about  to  go  to  sleep.  His  tail  was  touched,  and 
immediately  afterward  the  curve  showed  an  active  contraction 
of  the  bladder,  while — what  is  noteworthy — the  rhythm  and 
depth  of  the  respiratory  movements  did  not  change.  After  the 
bladder  had  again  assumed  its  full  volume,  and  while  the  dog 
was  perfectly  quiet,  his  skin  was  touched,  and  the  curve  record 

[331] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

showed  at  once  a  stronger,  active  contraction  of  the  bladder. 
In  like  manner,  sensations  of  pain,  which  we  produced  by  pull- 
ing the  dog's  ears,  caused  strong,  active  contraction  of  the 
bladder. 

Such  experiments  were  many  times  repeated.  They  were  also 
carried  on  with  bitches,  the  bladder  being  directly  connected 
with  the  plethysmograph  by  the  introduction  of  a  catheter,  with- 
out previous  establishment  of  a  fistula.  The  results  which  we 
obtained  were  always  the  same.  It  was  sufficient  to  speak  kindly 
to  the  animals,  or  to  caress  them,  to  make  the  curve  express  the 
psychic  influence  upon  their  active  movements. 

But  I  could  not  rest  content  with  these  results  obtained  from 
animals.  I  needed  to  corroborate  them  by  experiments  on 
human  beings.  Naturally  this  can  be  done  better  with  woman, 
since  with  her  the  bladder  can  be  easily  brought  into  connec- 
tion with  the  plethysmograph  by  the  introduction  of  a  catheter. 
My  clinical  colleagues  were  kind  enough  to  place  at  my  disposal 
some  girls  from  the  hospitals,  who  readily  offered  themselves  for 
the  purposes  of  these  experiments. 

I  may  be  permitted  to  give  an  account  of  these  experiments 
also.  These  experiments  were  carried  on,  otherwise,  as  the  first. 
Again  I  had  the  thoracic  and  abdominal  respiration  and  the 
movements  of  the  bladder  independently  recorded.  The  subject 
lay  comfortably  on  a  bed.  Here,  in  state  of  complete  rest,  the 
whole  curve  of  the  bladder  was,  at  times,  horizontal,  showing, 
at  others,  slight  active  undulations.  To  touch  the  hand  of  the 
subject  lightly  sufficed,  however,  to  produce  at  once  an  active 
contraction  of  the  bladder.  (See  T  in  the  curve  of  Fig.  4.) 

While  the  subject  was  lying  quietly  on  the  bed,  the  clock- 
work of  the  kymograph  was  wound  up  (see  C).  The  noise  re- 
sulting was  entirely  unknown  to  the  subject,  but  the  impression 
sufficed  to  cause  itself  to  be  reflected  in  the  bladder,  and  to  in- 
duce a  contraction,  visible  in  the  curve.  When  the  subject  was 
addressed  (see  P),  it  could  be  seen  that  the  bladder  contracted 
immediately,  while,  if  she  herself  spoke  (see  R),  a  series  of 
such  contractions  took  place.  All  these  contractions  were  move- 

[332] 


EMOTIONS 

ments  proper  to  the  bladder.  As  wag  shown  by  other  experi- 
ments as  well,  they  were  not  transferred  to  the  bladder  from 
the  abdominal  walls  as  from  the  diaphragm,  and  were  not,  there- 
fore, passive  movements  F.  The  lower  line  T  marks  the 
seconds. 

I  was  particularly  interested  in  the  movements  produced  in 
the  bladder  by  purely  psychic  influences.  These  are  shown,  e.g., 
by  the  following  experiment.  While  the  girl  lay  quietly  on  the 
bed,  and  respiration  was  quiet  and  normal — this  is  always  shown 
by  the  curve, — some  one  said  to  her,  "Now  I'm  going  to  pinch 
you,"  but  without  doing  so.  Immediately  the  bladder  con- 
tracted, without  the  slightest  change  being  noticed  in  the 
thoracic  and  abdominal  respiration.  After  rest  had  been  again 
restored,  a  jest  was  spoken  to  the  girl,  and  again  we  perceived 
a  contraction  of  the  bladder  on  the  curve,  without  seeing  any 
modification  whatever  of  the  two  respiratory  curves. 

Beyond  all  doubt,  then,  the  contractions  of  the  bladder  which 
we  observed  were  movements  proper  to  that  organ  itself. 

All  these  phenomena  may  be  considered  the  most  delicate  re- 
flex movements  which  occur  in  the  organism.  I  was  particularly 
interested  to  know  what  influence  a  direct  activity  of  the  brain 
would  exercise  upon  the  movements  of  the  bladder,  and  I  carried 
on  experiments  to  that  end.  The  subject  had  only  a  slight  edu- 
cation ;  she  was  especially  a  bad  mental  arithmetician,  very  easy 
problems  in  arithmetic  causing  her  difficulties.  She  needed, 
therefore,  in  such  work  to  exert  her  brain  very  much. 

While  she  lay  quietly  on  the  bed  and  her  respiration  was 
quite  normal,  she  was  given  the  following  example  in  arithmetic : 
"How  many  eggs  are  seven  dozen?"  Immediately  the  bladder 
was  seen  to  contract  (Fig.  5).  After  this  problem  was  solved 
(see  W),  we  had  her  multiply  in  her  head  thirteen  by  twelve, 
and  then  a  relaxation  of  the  bladder  was  to  be  seen. 

I  noticed,  also,  that  merely  speaking  to  the  girl,  without  her 
answering,  was  sufficient  to  produce  a  contraction  of  the  bladder. 


[333] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

III 

The  preponderating  activity  of  the  sympathetic  system  in  the 
emotions  is  so  great  that  the  brain  effort  is  not  able  to  sup- 
press it.  Many  men  feel  a  contraction  in  the  abdomen  when 
they  look  down  from  a  tower  or  other  high  place.  These  trouble- 
some sensations,  which  are  connected  with  the  idea  of  a  possible 
fall,  are  simply  caused  by  the  contraction  of  the  bladder  and  the 
intestines. 

When  we  investigate,  by  means  of  the  plethysmograph,  the 
movements  of  the  intestines  during  emotional  states,  we  obtain 
the  same  curves  as  we  received  from  the  movements  of  the  blood- 
vessels of  the  extremities  or  of  the  brain,  or  from  the  movements 
of  the  bladder.  All  these  facts  enable  us  to  understand  the 
mechanism  of  the  emotions  better.  Emotion  signifies  movement 
We  understand  now  that  the  constant  and  fundamental  move- 
ments taking  place  in  emotions  are  the  movements  of  the  in- 
ternal organs  of  vegetative  life. 

The  investigations  carried  on  in  my  laboratory  by  Dr.  Kiesow 
have  convinced  me  that  in  certain  emotions  the  blood  pressure 
increases,  and  the  blood-vessels  and  smooth  muscular  fibres  con- 
tract in  order  to  prevent  the  blood  from  being  dammed  up  in  the 
abdominal  cavity. 

In  order  to  increase  the  circulation  of  the  blood  in  the  brain 
and  muscles  our  bodily  machine  has  to  work  under  a  high  blood 
pressure.  This  end  could  be  attained  only  thru  the  sym- 
pathetic system,  which  sends  its  fibres  everywhere  to  the  smooth 
musculature.  During  blushing  a  paling  of  the  skin  can  be 
noticed  before  the  blood-vessels  expand,  and  the  blush  proper 
takes  place. 

In  the  study  of  the  emotions  the  reflex  movements  of  the 
striped  musculature  of  the  face,  the  extremities,  and  the  trunk 
are  of  secondary  significance  to  the  physiologist.  They  are 
simply  accompanying  phenomena  and,  just  because  they  are 
more  complicated,  less  fundamental. 

However  useful  the  first  reactions  of  the  nervous  system  are, 

[334] 


EMOTIONS 

yet  we  all  know  that  they  do  not  suffice  for  the  defence  of  the 
organism  in  strong  emotions.  The  nerve  substance  is  so  ir- 
ritable that  a  small  shock  is  enough  to  disturb  the  equilibrium. 
I  will  not  enter  into  detail  here,  since  I  have  already  shown  in 
my  book  on  Fear,  how  unstable  is  the  equilibrium  of  the  nervous 
system,  and  how  easily  the  brain  and  the  sympathetic  system 
go  beyond  the  proper  measure  in  their  activity  when  danger 
threatens,  and  existence  is  at  stake. 

Even  a  practiced  observer  is  often  unable  to  decide  from  the 
gestures  and  facial  expression  of  an  individual  whether  he  is 
enraged  or  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  joy. 

To  recall  the  expressions  of  two  so  opposite  emotional  condi- 
tions suffices  to  convince  us  that  the  reflex  phenomena  accom- 
panying them  are  not  only  useless,  but  even  injurious.  Indeed, 
in  great  pain  and  great  pleasure  we  have  seen  the  same 
phenomena ;  trembling  of  the  muscles,  secretion  of  tears,  expan- 
sion of  the  pupils,  decrease  of  visual  acuity,  buzzing  in  the  ears, 
oppression  of  the  breathing,  palpitation  of  the  heart,  inability 
to  speak,  exclamations,  convulsive  movements  of  the  diaphragm, 
etc.  All  these  phenomena  are  injurious.  After  the  emotion 
is  over  we  feel  nervous  fatigue,  have  headache,  and  suffer  from 
insomnia.  I  am  sorry  to  find  myself  in  this  matter  in  disagree- 
ment with  Darwin,  but  I  cannot  concede  that  the  unconscious 
processes  occurring  during  the  emotions  (at  least  the  best  known 
and  most  characteristic)  have  always  a  physiological  purpose. 

If  we  compare  the  expressions  of  pleasure  and  satisfaction  in 
their  highest  degree  with  those  of  pain,  it  will  be  seen  that  there 
is  one  and  the  same  mechanism  for  both.  In  my  book  on  Fear 
I  have  shown  that  it  is  the  quantity  and  not  the  quality  of  the 
excitation  which  disturbs  the  equilibrium  of  our  organism.  Only 
the  processes  which  take  place  in  the  system  of  the  great  sym- 
pathetic are  purposive  and  advantageous  for  the  preservation  of 
life.  And  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  The  animals,  whose  invol- 
untary movements  preserved  them  from  destruction  in  danger, 
won  in  the  struggle  for  existence  over  others  who  possessed  in 
less  marked  degree  this  capacity. 

[335] 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  NORMAL  AND  SUBNORMAL 

Whatever  the  emotions  may  be,  we  always  see  that  in  these 
states  the  blood  pressure  increases,  the  heart  beats  become 
stronger,  and  the  respiration  deeper.  These  advantageous  effects 
are  the  same  in  man  as  in  animals,  when  they  fix  the  attention, 
are  passionately  excited,  curious  or  jealous,  or  when  they  run 
at  play  or  in  pursuit  of  prey. 

But  so  soon  as  the  emotion  becomes  more  intense,  the  equilib- 
rium of  the  organs  ceases.  The  condition  of  excitability  is  in- 
creased and  becomes  more  complicated,  contractions  of  the 
muscles  and  changes  in  the  sense  organs  take  place,  from  which 
it  results  that  the  capacity  for  resistance  of  the  organism  is 
lowered.  In  strong  emotions,  as  in  rage  and  anger,  we  are 
overpowered  by  unconscious  and  disco-ordinated  movements, 
and  a  penetrative  and  irresistible  transformation  occurs  in  us, 
as  if  the  influence  of  education  had  been  extinguished,  as  if  our 
reason  had  suffered  an  eclipse.  We  are  no  longer  able  to  sup- 
press the  internal  excitement,  the  voice  refuses  its  office,  and 
we  utter  a  wild  cry.  Many  persons  in  such  states  gnash  their 
teeth  like  wild  beasts,  others  act  foolishly,  like  children. 

These  disturbances  occur  not  only  in  the  reflex  movements, 
but  also  in  the  conscious  processes,  and  more  even  in  the  latter 
than  in  the  former.  Education  has  taught  us  that  we  must 
seek  to  master  and  to  calm  ourselves  during  this  internal  excite- 
ment, for  in  these  states  we  lack  mental  clearness  and  power 
of  judgment,  and  consciousness  cannot  again  regain  control  until 
these  disco-ordinated  reflex  movements  have  ceased.  Even  the 
ancients  knew  that  strong  emotions  resembled  a  suddenly  oc- 
curring sickness.  The  legend  of  ancient  Rome  idealized  a  king 
in  order  to  represent  war.  They  gave  him  the  name  Hostilius, 
which  is  derived  from  hostis.  Tradition  further  informs  us  that 
this  king  erected  a  temple  to  "Pallor  and  Fear,"  for  pallor 
and  fear  were  looked  upon  as  malevolent,  destructive  deities 
who  must  be  appeased  in  order  that  the  soldiers  might  be 
victorious  in  battle. 

Reprinted  by  permission  from  the  Decennial  Celebration  of  Clark  Uni- 
versity, Worcester,  Mass.,  1899,  pp.  396-407. 

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THE  END 


[341] 


INDEX 


Accident,  fear  of,  279 
Action,  automatic,  159 

impulsive,  194 

instinctive,   193 

perfection   of,   depends   upon   the 
neuron  pattern,  193 

reflex,  193 

volitional,  195 

Adaptability,  a  measure  of  intelli- 
gence, 58 

Adaptation  Board,  102 
Admiration,  140,  155 
Adrenal  gland,  132 

secretion,  effect  of,  138 
Affections,  the,  123 
Age,  physiological,  60 
Alexia,  178 

Ambitious,  parents  and  teachers,  311 
Ameboid  processes,  29 
Anger,  124 

Anger  and  adrenal  glands,  134 
Animals  have  language,  174 

think,   158 

wild,  approach  if  eyes  are  closed, 

48 
Antagonism  between  different  parts 

of  the  sympathetic,  144 
Aphasia,  178 

case  of,  111 

Aphasias,  table  of  simple,  179 
Aristocracy,  236 
Arrested  mental  development,  52 

limitations  of  persons  of,  243 
Artistic  sense,  impossible  to  develop, 

101 
Association  areas,  98 

necessary   for   complex    emotions, 

142 

Association    areas,    to    hasten    the 
functioning  of  the  great,  216 

poverty  of  neurons  in  the,  153 
Association  centers,  65 

higher  processes  depend  upon,  109 

last  to  develop,  67 


Association,  free,  81 

of  ideas,  45,  83 

inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  nerv- 
ous mechanism,  83 

logical,  110 

neurons,  12 

by  similarity,  94 

importance  of,  99 
Attention,  76 

acquired,  107 

and  interest,  136 

lack  of  acquired,  characteristic  of 
the  feeble-minded,  108 

objection  to  our  view,  82 

voluntary,  202 
Automatic  action,  208 

in  a  mature  mind,  209 
"  Avalanche  Conduction,"  151 
Awe,  140,  154 


B 


Barnes,  Earl,  48 

Binet,  Alfred,  55,  72,  181,  250,  254, 
257 

on  who  is  mentally  defective,  60 
Bladder,  contractions  of  the,  126 
Blocking,  explanation  of,  197 
Bolton,  13 

Bogardus  factory  test,  301 
Brain  of  arrested  development,  63 
Brain  of  embryo,  7 

necessary  to  thought,  159 

patterns,  limitation  of,  67 

weight,  6 
Bridgman,  Laura,  16 

cortex  of,  17 
Brodmann,  37 
Burnet,  Thomas,  158 


Cajal,  151 
Cannon,  W. 

228 
Cell  body,  8 


C 


B.,  126,  128,  138,  144, 


[343] 


INDEX 


Charity,  recipients  of,  246 
Child,  nature  of,  311 

without  well  formed  habits,  217 
Children,  gifted,  216 

without  reverence,  142 
Chinese  tailor,   184 
Church  &  Peterson,  178 
Citizenship,  good,  262 
Crampton,  C.  Ward,  60 
Cretinism,  271 
Crile,    126,   228 
Criminals,  248 

lack  of  emotion  in,  152 
Commendation  and  approval,  321 
Concrete,  abstract,  283 
Conditioned  reflex,   147 
Conflict,  195 
Consciousness,  24 

as  cause,  83 

complex    patterns    give    rise    to 

larger,  76 

Consciousness,    connected    with    the 
passage  of  neurokyme,  31 

cortex  is  the  seat  of,  31 

marginal,  78 

maturity  of,  33 

the  result  of  interference,  28 

seat  of,  27 
Conscious  reflex,  194 
Contempt,   154 
Contiguity,  association  by,  84,  92 

verbal,  96 
Convolutions,  7 
Cortex,  7 

of  Laura  Bridgman,  17 

neuron  layers  in,   13 
Cowboy,  150 
Cretin,  229 
Curiosity,  145,  148 

leads  a  child  to  explore,  91 
Curve  of  distribution,  235 

of  mental  development,  34 


D 


Deductive,  183 
Defect  by  deprivation,  57 
Defectives  never  able  to  handle  ab- 
stractions, 287 
associate  by  contiguity,  87 
cannot  concentrate,  107 
Deliberate,  what  happens  when  we, 
197 


Deliberation,  194 

objection  to  the  term,  197 
Democracy,  236 
Dendrite,  8 
Dentist  and  idiot,  274 
Deprivation,  defect  by,  57 
Des  Cartes,  140 
Diamond,  copying  the,  255 
Differences     are     perceived     before 
similarities,  101 

more  easy  than  likenesses,  294 
Discipline,  292 

among  the  feeble-minded,  326,  327 

fundamental  problem  of,  316 
Diplomacy,  honesty  in,  290 
Disgust,  148 
Donaldson,  H.  H.,  16 
Drawing,  child's  first,  48 
Dull  normal  person,  59 


E 


Education,  242 

and  intelligence,  54 
Efficiency,  244 

total  mental,  262 
Ego,  197 
Emotion,  124 

Emotional  accompaniment,  196 
Emotions,  conflict  of,    149 

complex,  140 

complex,   result   of  extensive   as- 
sociations, 141 

complex,   not  much  more  violent 
than  the  simple,  143 

distinct  from  the  other  phases  of 
mind,  145 

intelligence  controls  the,  272 

manifestation  of,  different  in  the 
feeble-minded,  153 

nerve  action  underlying  the  com- 
plex, 142 

primary,  in  the  feeble-minded,  145 

the  mechanism  of  the,  329 
Encephalon.  4,  5 
Encouragement,  effect  of,  318 
End  organs,  16 
Environment  to  which  one  can  adapt 

himself,  261 
Envy,  155 
Experience,  277 

child  must  be  given,  291 

develops  neuron  patterns,  48 


[344] 


INDEX 


Experience  (Continued) 

fundamental    to    good    judgment, 
188 

poverty  of,  164 

school,    263 

sets  patterns  into  activity,  288 

vicarious,  280 
Eye  cannot  see  itself,  207 


Factory  test,  301 
Fascination,  140,  155 
Fear,  124 

and  curiosity  antagonistic,  150 
paralyzed  by,  125,  273 
Feeble-minded,  52,  57 

child  steals  a  handkerchief,  295 
dissipation  of   mental  energy  of, 

161 

fond  of  music,  75 
have  memory  and  imagination,  74 
have  very  incomplete  neuron  pat- 
terns, 152 

how  to  train  the,  297 
in  the  army,  250 
in  the  high  schools,  115 
lack  neurons  for  emotions,  155 
lacking  in  reasoning,  188 
limitations  of  the,  102 
not  hard  to  please,  274 
not    able    to    build    up    elaborate 

neuron  patterns,  108 
Feeble-minded,    the    great    problem, 

312 
who  need  to  go  to  an  institution, 

252 

often  repeat  judgments,  182 
not  naturally  bad,  275 
lacking  in  energy,  189 
do  not  modify  their  instincts,  147 
pedagogy  of  the,  293 
vicarious  experience  nil,  283 
reason    for    the    weak    volitional 

action  of,  205 

Feeble-mindedness  defined,  58 
upper  limit  of,  59 
we  may  suspect,  295 
Feeble-minded  children  cited:   Bert, 
162;   Charles,   191;   Eddie,   161, 
299;   Fire-alarm  Joe,  75;   Flor- 
ence,  87;    Garry,    163;    George, 
153;     Jay,     184;     John,     324; 


Feeble-minded  children  (Continued) 
John's  proficiency  in  numbers, 
283;  Kirk,  167;  Lewis,  285; 
Lil,  154;  Marjorie  B.,  74;  Rob- 
ert, 74;  Theodore,  190;  Tom, 
162,  325;  Willie,  154 

Feeling  of  familiarity,  71 

Feelings,   123,   136 
as  guides  for  future  action,  316 

Flechsig,  15,  65,  98 

Flight,  145 

Foote,  Elizabeth,  255,  260 

Frog,  experiment  with,  21 

Frequency,  196 


G 


Galen,  227 
Ganglion.  10 

sympathetic,  6 

spinal,  20 
Generalizing,  183 
Geography,  teaching,  282 
Gilchrist,  318 

Glands  of  internal  secretion,  133 
Goff,   Judge,   253 
Gordian  knot,  207 
Gratitude,  141,  155 
Greenman,  M.  J.,  30 

H 

Habit,  212 

vs.  no  habit,  217 

based  on  an  impulse,  214 

an  acquired  instinct,  212 

Habits  easily  broken,  219 
good  and  bad,  215 
of  inaction,  201 
of  the  feeble-minded,  222 
why  we  have  undesirable,  219 

Harum,  David,   198 

Harvard  and  Yale,  96 

Hauser,  Caspar,  48 

Hammarberg,  63 

Happiness  first.  323 

Healy,  Wm.,  269 

Heidelberg,  212 

Heredity,  what  is.  241 

Herrick',  9,    12,  27,  28,   66,   70,  98, 
110 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  118 


[345] 


INDEX 


Iceberg,  figure  of,  25 
Idea,  45 

Ideas,  association  of,  45,  83 
Ideal  of  training,  313 
Idiot,  60 

a  creature  of  impulse,  265 

capable  of  instinctive  attention,  78 

microcephalic  and  hydrocephalic, 

79 
Idiots  associate,  114 

recite  Psalms,  114 

repetition  of  movements,  49 

see  and  hear,  65 
Image,  a  mental,  45 
Imagination,  72 

creative,  117 

not  unlimited,  117 

possible   for    undeveloped    minds, 
74 

reproductive,  73 
Imbeciles,  60 

define  in  terms  of  use,  184 

few  accomplishments  of,  50 
Impulsive  action,  194 

action  dangerous,  215 

habits,  214 
Impulse,    individual    differences    of, 

265 

Inductive,  182 
Industrial  education,  292 
Infant,  conscious  as  born,  32 

new  born,  40 
Inhibitory  action,  197 
Instinct,  38 

an  inherited  habit,  212 

strength  of,  275 

Instincts   according   to   McDougall, 
30 

are  modified,  146 

Intelligence  of  the  average  person, 
53,   235,   251 

and  emotion,  270 

and  training,  247 

and  will,   264 

can  be  measured,  250 

cause  of  low,  238 

confused  vith  education,  54 

defined,  56 

different  from  education,  238 

eight  year,  etc.,  53 

level,  60 


Intelligence  (Continued) 

losses  come  from  lack  of,  244 

measuring,  55,  116 

of  various  groups  determined,  234 

ranges  of,  234 

twenty  year,  the  maximum,  53,  56 
Interest,  136 

and  attention,  136 
Irritability,  69 


James,  Wm.,  58,  66,  126,  197,  200, 

201,  202,  203,  206,  212,  215,  221, 

262,  264 

James-Lange  theory,  138 
James'   maxims  for  habit  forming, 

218 

Jesus,  prayer  of,  291 
Judgment,  167,  178 
why  the  mental  defective   shows 

poor,  190 

Judgments,  reasoning  a  train  of,  182 
Junk  shop,  279 
Juries  nonplussed,  152 


Keller,  Helen,   167 

Knee  jerk,  20 

Knowledge  of  the  "first  order,"  86 


Lange,  126 

Lange- James  theory,  138 

Language,  174 

Levels  of  intelligence,  56,  249 

Lindley,  Martha,  303 

Loathing,  140,  155 

Localization,  brain,  12 

Lugaro,  29 

Lying  and  stealing,  289 

M 

Man  with  the  Hoe,  239 
Markham,  Edwin,  239 
Mateer,  Florence,  147 
McDougall,  Wm  ,  123.  155,  140,  146, 

149.  200 
instinct  defined  by,  38 


[346] 


INDEX 


Measuring  scales  for  intelligence,  55, 

250,  261 

Medicine,  license  to  practise,  244 
Medullation,  15 
Memory,  69,  110 

acquired,  110 

of  the  feeble-minded,  75 

inherent,  71 

idiots  show,  75 

man  losing  the  power  of,  76 

poor,  72 

a  property  of  nervous  tissue,  71 
Mental  age,  53,  60 
Mental,  arrest,  52 

defect,   wisest   procedure   to   sus- 
pect, 313 

image,  73 

levels,  233,  246 

Mental  levels  depend  upon  the  time 
when  arrest  occurs,  64 

determined  with  much  accuracy, 
250 

educate  according  to,  253 

theory   of,   235 
Mental  tests  in  the  army,  251 

the  theory  of,  254 
Mesial  surfaces,  7 
Messenger  boy,  246 
Metric  system  remembered,  115 
Microcephaly,   63 
Microcephalic  idiot,  79 
Millet,  239 
Mind,  apathy  of  undeveloped,  151 

two  phases  of,  271 
Mongolian  type,  186 
Moral  imbecile,  267 
Moral  training,  310 
Morgan,  Lloyd,  156 
Moron,  defined,  58 

a  menace,  237 

the  discovery  of  the,  233 

develops  some  neuron  patterns,  50 

a  problem  of  education,  252 
Morons,  60 

apparently  normal   until   7   or  8 
years,  61 

brains  of,  64 

not  vicious,  275 

who  had  run  away,  163 

inability  to  hold  a  job,  205 
Mosso,   126,   138,  228,  270 
Motive,  315 
Movement  of  the  heart  arrested,  197 


Murderers    studied   by    the   writer, 

152 
Muscle,  goal  of  neurokyme,  16 


N 


Name,  recall  of  a,  81 
Names,  what  are,  174 
Naming  instinct,  176 
Natural  retentiveness,  71 
Nerve   action   underlying   the  com- 
plex emotions,  142 

degeneration  in,  30 

energy  dissipated,  161 
Nervous  system,  3 

the  autpnomic,  130 

properties  inherent  in,  69 
Neurite,  8 
Neurokyme,  9,  20 

is  blocked,  92 

Neuron  action  and  sympathetic  sys- 
tem,   127 

development  at  sixteen  years,  54 

paths  must  be  blocked,  291 
Neuron  pattern,  21 

and  association  by  similarity,  95 

in  instincts,   142 

elaborateness  of,  195 

inductive  reasoning  a  question  of, 
185 

simple,  35 

simplest  kind  of  cortical,  165 

very  complicated,  36 
Neuron  patterns,  23 

acquired,  39,  42 

built  up  by  experience,  48,  151 

elaborated  by  experience,  45 

innate,  38 

increasing  in  complexity,  48 

patterns,  man  a,  slave  to  his,  207 

in  the  feeble-minded,  49 

specific,  37 
Neurons,  8 

at  birth,    15 

changed  permanently,  70 

condition  of,  in  the  feeble-minded, 
62 

dependent  upon  stimulation,  16 

develop  until  forty-five,  33 

grow  at  different  rates,  14 

impossible  to  develop  the  defective, 
97 

in  contact,  29 


[347] 


INDEX 


Neurons  (Continued) 

layers  of  the  cortex,  13 

motor,  15 

sensory,  15 

Norsworthy,  Naomi,  87 
Number  work  of  feeble-minded  chil- 
dren, 308 

O 

Over  inhibited  type,  200 
P 

Parental   instinct,    145 

Patriotism,  154 

Pathological  liars,  26& 

Pavlov,  131 

Penmanship    of    the    feeble-minded, 

308 
Perception,  44,  167,  171, 

definition,    181 

sometimes  called  judgment,  178 

and  judgment  differ  only   in  de- 
gree, 181 

judgment  and  reasoning  the  same 

process,  188 

Peterson,  Church  and,  178 
Pity,  155 

Pleasure,  feeling  of,  124 
Pneumogastric  nerve,  197 
Porteus  tests.  Lewis  and  the,  285 
Pugnacity,  145,  149 
Punishment,  318 

vs.  brutality,  319 
Punning,  118 


Quickening,  32,  33 
R 

Rage  and  adrenal  glands,  134 

blind  with,  125 
Rami  communicantes,  127 
Reading,  an  investigation  of,  303 
Reasoning,  182 

course  of  nerve  energy  in  deduct- 
ive, 186 

deductive,  183 

dependent  upon  experience,  183 

inductive,  183 


Recency,  196 

Relay,  23 

Reflex-arc,  25 

Reflex,  patella,  20 

Reflexes,  neuron  patterns  for,  38 

Reproach,  154 

Repulsion,  145 

Resentment,  155 

Responsibility,  ideas  of,  243 

Retina,  16 

Reverence,  141 

no  evidence  of,  among  the  feeble- 
minded, 153 

Rewards  or  punishments,  317 
Reward  must  be  definite,  320 
Rousseau,  212 
Rugh,  177 


Scorn,  140,  154 
Secret  of  will,  207 
Self-abasement,  145,  149 
Self-assertion,  145,  149 
Self-made  men,  242 
Sensation,  41 

adults  seldom  have  pure,  165 

is  consciousness  of  a  stimulus,  166 

of  pressure,  172 

of  sound,  71 
Sex  emotion,  273 
Sheath,  medullary.   15 
Similarities,  children  do  not  easily 

see,  101 
Similarity,  association  by,  94 

degrees  of,  99 
Snakes,  imbeciles  and  idiots  do  not 

fear,   148 

Society,  a  perfect,  243 
Sound-sight,  166 
Splanchnic  nerves.  131 
Square,  copying  the,  255 
State  license,   244 
Steel,  heated  and  cooled,  70 
Stern,  58 

St.  Lawrence  River,  282 
Stout,  178 
Stimulus,  16 

single,  tends  to  radiate  in  all  di- 
rections, 42 
Stimuli  do  not  come  singly,  42 

infinite  number  of,  41 

interference  of  two  or  more,  91 


[348] 


INDEX 


Stimuli,    specific,    16 

summation  of,  43 
Subnormals,  training  for,  300 
Sullivan,  Miss,  170 
Swiss  guide,  150 
Syllogism,  185 
Symbols,  282 
Sympathy,  146 
Sympathetic  system,  6 
'the  seat  of  the  emotions,  126 

the   oldest  of   all   nervous   struc- 
tures, 127 
Synapse,  10 


Telegraphy,  22 
Temperament,  226 
Temperaments,  four,  227 

of  the  feeble-minded,  229 
Terman,  53,  56,  235 
Tests,  pedagogical,  indication  of  the 
mental  level,  263 

what  is  tested  by  each  question, 

259 

Thorndike,  40 
Thought,  158,  163 

poverty  of,  164 

results   when    the    action    is    im- 
peded, 160 

Thumb,  opposing,  to  fingers,  260 
Thyroid  gland,  271 
Time,  an  important  point,  202 

ability  to  appreciate,  257 
Titchener,  45,  171,  178,  227 
Touch,  sense  of,  16 
Train,  impulse  to  jump  on,  194 
Tredgold   defines   feeble-mindedness, 

58 
Truant,  the,  292 


U 

United  States  Army,  use  of  mental 
tests  in,  250 


Vengeance,  154 

Verbal  associations,  177 

description,  281 

memory,  177 

types,  177 
Vicarious  experience  when  valuable, 

280 
Vineland  Training  School,  child  in, 

61 

Virtue  is  its  own  reward,  321 
Visual  center,  16 
Vladivostok,  113 
Volitional  action,  194,  201 

emotional  content  of,  204 
Voluntary  habits,  214 

W 

Watch,  winding,  159 

automatic,  164 
White,  Wm.  A.,  249 
Will,  the  elements  of,  201 

breaking  defended,  264,  267 

a  matter  of  the  neuron  patterns, 
201 

strong  or  weak,  203 

the  way  to  control,  265 

relations  of,  to  intelligence,  264 

lacking  in  feeble-minded,  205 
Wilson,  President,  289 
Wit,  118 
Word  blindness,  178 

deafness,  178 

trying  to  think  of  a,  82 
Words  arouse  experiences,  177 

are  only  symbols,  177 
Writing  of  the  feeble-minded,  308 


[349] 


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